


Deep in the Woods

by EavingMal



Category: Brave (2012), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Also I can't stress enough that we're in for the long haul folks, And everyone has family problems, Enchanted Forest AU, Fairies AU, Frostcup - Freeform, Hijack, LIKE SUPER LONG, Lots of anxiety, M/M, Medieval with Horrendous Liberties Taken, Not Super Graphic But It's There, longfic, some violence/gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 104
Words: 156,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21688258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EavingMal/pseuds/EavingMal
Summary: Everyone knows that the woods are full of fairies, and it's not wise to go there. Hiccup, though, has never been one for doing the smart thing, so he lives there, alone except for the Grimalkin, Toothless, who showed up one day and doesn't seem to want to leave. One day the Wind brings Jack Frost to the hut, and Jack Frost seems determined that Hiccup should have more than just one friend, though.Pitch Black, on the other hand, has plans, and for those plans, he needs his Grimalkin back. He's convinced that getting its new master on side shouldn't be hard. The boy is only a human, after all...
Relationships: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood)
Comments: 192
Kudos: 267
Collections: Procrastination Level A+





	1. At a House in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> I'm baaaaaaaack!
> 
> So, after posting Time Flies, I teased that there was another long fic in the works and uh ...  
> Well, I thought Time Flies got away from me. This isn't a fic, it's a monstrosity. But I'll save you the exact stats. Just know that we're gonna be here for a while. But! The fic is entirely finished, so as long as I don't have a computer breakdown while I'm away from home or something, we should be smooth sailing to the end, no hiatuses and no orphaned fics here.
> 
> As with last time, I've still got some editing to do on the second half, so I'll post one chapter per week til those are done to give myself time, and then I'll speed up posting once I know that I'm not going to be running out of polished chapters for you fine folks.
> 
> So without further ado, strap in, enjoy the ride, and here's the first chapter.

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third muttered to himself as he tried to straighten broken stems and leaves.

Next to him, a gigantic black cat, tufted ears at odds with its muzzle, where the fur gave way to scales in a green so rich and smooth they might have been made of silk. His paws were similarly scaled, and his tail was tufted like his ears. With him kneeling and the cat sitting back on its haunches beside him, its head was about level with his own.

At the moment, the cat at least had the decency to look sheepish.

“I tell you every time to keep out of the garden,” Hiccup scolded the cat. “Now look what you’ve done! That’s my food, you know, not a backscratcher.”

The cat whined and nudged his shoulder.

Hiccup sighed and scratched it behind the ears. “Toothless,” he groaned. “Some days you’re lucky you’re the only intelligent conversation around.”

He stood up and stretched. The bright light made him squint – he’d only just woken up to the sound of plants rustling and his useless cat crushing his herbs. He was still in his bedclothes, even – the only thing he’d put on to go outside was his wooden left leg. He sighed and tried to rub some of the dirt out from between his bare toes. It stood out dark against his skin, pale not like marble or alabaster or anything even remotely romantic, but pale like a drained corpse, three weeks dead, like the flesh had forgotten what it was like to have blood running through it. Where he had freckles, which was most places, they weren’t the brown-orange of his younger days. They were stark grey-black.

“Annoying creature,” Hiccup said though this time without malice, giving Toothless another scratch behind his ears. Toothless looked up at him with big, innocent eyes, feigning hurt at such accusations. Hiccup shook his head, and went inside to get dressed.

***

Hiccup emerged a few minutes later, now properly dressed. All his clothes were old and patched, simple things, just a worker’s tunic and hose, undyed linen. His shoes were plain leather, the kind that only came to the ankle and stayed on with cord ties. He certainly didn’t have the equipment to make buckles. It was past the warm months of autumn now, but not yet particularly cold. Still, the tunic was a full-sleeved version, and a little longer than was usual, almost to his knees. For just gardening, there was no reason to wear his apron, though, and he’d left his coat off. He tucked a chain necklace with a single, flat brass disc on it underneath his shirt as he did the ties up all the way to the neck.

With only a little resignation, he set about properly fixing his herb garden, removing the more damaged plants and shoring up the ones that might yet survive. Then he checked on the hives. Doing well, if he did say so himself. No need to harvest yet, perhaps next week. Having apparently contented himself with crushing Hiccup’s garden, Toothless had headed out to hunt, which left plenty of time and space to work without the huge cat getting in his way.

Then, he fed the rabbits and counted them – hard experience had taught him that rabbits were crafty when it came to hutches and burrowing – and fed the chickens, too.

By that time, Toothless had returned, looking fed and satisfied. Toothless transformed into a small, ordinary black cat, in order to sit on Hiccup’s lap while the he had something to eat and contemplated the rest of his day. Foraging, probably.

“You happy with how your day has gone?” he asked the black cat, which made a contented _prr-ow_ sound at him.

“Well, you’re just easy to please, aren’t you?”

Toothless opened one eye lazily, and _prr-ow-_ ed again.

Hiccup, keeping a hand on Toothless’s back to be sure he didn’t accidentally tip the cat onto the ground, reached for a notebook across the table, pulling it close.

He opened it to the last page that had writing on it, and with a pencil made of charcoal, changed a couple of details in the sketch there, then added a sentence at the bottom of the page.

Then he turned back to a table near the beginning of the book and made a few notes about the broken herbs.

He didn’t look at the very beginning of the book anymore. He’d torn most of that out anyway.

But despite how economical he’d been with the space in the book, it was running out. Time to learn how to make paper, he supposed.

Hmm, paper. For that he’d need wood pulp. And a frame. A good project for winter, he supposed, when it was too cold for growing or foraging.

He tapped Toothless on the head. “Time to get up,” he said.

Toothless stretched and yawned, and as he jumped off Hiccup’s lap, smoothly transformed into his larger, reptilian form. Hiccup adjusted the straps on his wooden leg — the leather was starting to stretch, so he’d have to fix that, too — and, taking the notebook and a basket and small axe, led Toothless out into the woods.


	2. Flying Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did any one ask for HiJack: Lonely Meets Sad Edition? No. No they did not. But here we are anyway.  
> Also: As an Australian myself, please read my description of Aster’s accent with all the self-deprecation it is intended to have.

Jack Frost stretched, leaning back against the trunk of the tree, heavy with quinces about ready for picking. Shouldn’t be long to wait now…

“Frost,” a voice with a broad foreign accent full of twanging vowels, greeted him. “Shoulda known you’d be here.”

“Aww, and I was being stealthy this time,” Jack replied, grinning and showing teeth that almost but not quite blended into his pale face. The only difference between them was that his face had the pale blue tint of impending frostbite, but his teeth were just white, white like fresh-fallen snow. His eyes were bright, bright blue. The effect was somewhat like the ice sculpture subtlety at a king’s feast come to life and smiling.

“Didn’t pick you for the quince type,” Aster said, adjusting the strap of his backpack. Unlike Jack, Aster was tanned and bearded, and at least twenty years Jack’s senior. He wore workman’s clothes, an old tunic with sleeves pulled down to guard against thorns. The sleeves were already scratched to fraying and stuck with thorns from previous such outings. He wore a surcoat of the travelling kind, with the sleeves tied back out of his way, and shivered a little as he looked at Jack, who never wore anything heavier than light hose and tunic in pale brown, and a plain, blue, circular coat without a hood draped around his shoulders. Spring clothes, in other words, more suited to protecting against light spring showers than protecting against the chill of mid-autumn and winter.

“Yeah, quinces require too much patience for me. I thought I’d come and find my favourite person,” Jack said.

“Right.” Aster, clearly sceptical, started working on the quince tree as he spoke, taking his backpack off and opening it at his feet to drop the fruit into as he picked them off the bottom branches.

“Left, actually,” Jack said.

Aster looked at him. “What?”

“I spotted someone on the way over. Thought it was better you picked her up than me.”

Aster nodded. “Can you be more specific than ‘left’?”

Jack indicated the way.

Aster sighed, closed the backpack and swung it onto his back. “Thanks, Frost. I’ll take care of it.”

Jack stretched out again. He’d long ago discovered that it was far better to send Aster after the lost kids in the woods than go himself. Something about getting rescued by him seemed to make kids suspicious. Not that he could blame them. Fairies didn’t get the best reputation, and they deserved every inch of it. He wasn’t a fairy, of course, but sometimes it was hard for kids to tell the difference.

“Ah, one thing,” Aster called, from down the path. “I know you know about that to-do at North’s place. I’ll be locking up. Don’t go getting yourself into trouble, alright?” But the suggestion had a resigned quality to it. Aster knew that Jack didn’t generally listen to warnings, but all the same, he seemed to like to give them.

Jack gave him a single wave of thanks, then, using his staff like a pole vault, lifted himself up off the ground and into the breeze that rustled the top trees. With a still day like this, he couldn’t travel fast, but today felt like a leisurely sort of day anyway.

He leaned back and let the wind carry him where it would. He had nowhere to be until the evening, and he was bored. No snow this late in the season, and no ice on the water, either.

“Take me somewhere I haven’t been yet,” he said to the wind. It gusted a little stronger, and he rode along with it. It had been mostly a rhetorical question – there was nowhere in the forest he hadn’t been before.

But he didn’t really mind where he went, as long as there was something to do there.

***

Jack did indeed remember the place where the wind had brought him, as he expected, though it was further from his usual haunts than he generally went.

He didn’t, however, remember the bees. They buzzed and swarmed around him. He didn’t worry about them – bees were usually tolerant of his presence, unless he deliberately swatted them. There must be a hive nearby.

Not a natural hive, he realised as he looked down. One like humans made.

More than just bees, too – there was a hut there, with chickens and something in an enclosed hutch as well! And a vegetable garden!

The whole thing reminded him a little of Aster’s setup, though Aster bought most of his food from a nearby village and didn’t lay out his vegetable gardens nearly so neatly. Jack was sort of impressed, actually. Way out on the other side of the clearing was a tanning pit, too, as far away from the house as it could get without being actually in the woods. The pits were empty and uncovered now, though, and looked like they had been for some time.

Jack sat on the roof for a moment, looking around. Some of the plants in the garden were crushed, but the rest of them seemed to be growing healthily.

Then he saw the fresh footprints leading away from the house. Odd ones – four were some sort of large cat, which he couldn’t immediately place, one odd rounded-square-ish print and one …

One human foot, shoe and all.

Jack grinned. Human, huh? Been a long time since a human ventured this deep into the woods. But there was a lot of work here – he wondered if there might be more.

He made a note of the footprints, but walked around the house to study the vegetable garden a little more.

By the time he returned to the front of the house, it was just in time to see the young man who had made the footprints. He was around Jack’s height, his face square and . His eyes were the kind of green one saw sometimes in algae-filled pools, the kind that looked safe until you started to notice the dead rabbits. The odd, square-ish prints had been made by a wooden leg, which replaced his left foot. Jack couldn’t see how much of the leg itself was replaced, too. His skin was like death, and he was covered in freckles, black like flecks of soot. His eyes were rimmed in black, too. If he hadn’t been standing so upright, watching Jack so intently and suspiciously, Jack might have assumed that he was sick.

And then there was the Grimalkin behind him, large and black, eyes nearly the same green as the young man’s, though much, much more vivid. Jack’s jovial greeting died on his lips.

Grimalkins, down to the last kit, were creatures of Pitch Black and his court. If there was one with this young man, he must be also, though he looked nothing like any fairy Jack had ever seen before. There was a vegetable garden, too – and bees. No fairy Jack had ever seen kept bees. At least, not in neat, hand-built hives next to tanning pits. Fairies just sort of … convinced bees to build their own hives where it was close and convenient, and they tended to stick to one hobby at a time.

“Afternoon,” Jack said instead, leaning on his crooked staff and summoning up a more cautious version of his friendly grin.

“What are you doing at my house?” was the response, blunt and to the point.

“Just passing through,” Jack said, holding up a hand. “It’s been a long time since I was last here. I didn’t know there was a house.”

“And after that?”

“What?”

“You didn’t just arrive. When I got here, you were wandering around looking at my vegetables. You decided to stop and snoop around.”

“Wouldn’t you be curious?” Jack protested. This was blunter than a fairy trick, but the format still fit, so he chose his words carefully. “I didn’t mean to cause offense.”

“Tell me your name,” the young man demanded. Human, then. That was a human trick so basic that Jack had heard it from the mouths of children barely old enough to pronounce their own names right.

“Hey,” Jack said. “I’m no fairy.” He paused just long enough to prove that he didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to, then said, “I’m Jack. You?”

“Not a fairy either.”

Jack waited for him to provide a name, but one didn’t seem forthcoming. “Yeah, I got it,” he said. “Not a fairy, you don’t have to answer truthfully. I believe you. So what’s your name?”

“Hiccup,” the young man said, quickly, as though blurting out the name might gloss over any response Jack might make to it.

So although Jack desperately wanted to laugh, he kept it behind his teeth and instead asked, “And you’re the Master to that Grimalkin, right?”

Hiccup glanced down. “Who, Toothless? No, I’m nobody’s Master. Especially not this wilful thing.” Absently, he scratched Toothless behind the ears. Toothless leaned into Hiccup’s affectionate hand, eyes half-lidding lazily, though never quite closing enough for the huge feline to lose his watch on Jack.

Jack snorted. “Could have fooled me,” he said. “They don’t just hang around anybody, you know.”

Hiccup walked past Jack and dropped his basket and pack near the door, standing his small hatchet next to it. Apparently he’d been out collecting wood as well as foraging.

Muttering to himself, Hiccup walked around the side of the house, towards a little shed near the rabbit hutches and chicken coop.

Jack stepped up onto the wind and drifted over to Hiccup, and for his trouble, got the shed door slammed in his face.

Toothless moved between Jack and the door and began to growl.

Jack stepped back, hands up. “Alright,” he said. “I get it. Not wanted.”

Hiccup emerged from the shed with a wooden frame, a wicker mesh, and a small box for tools.

“Look,” Hiccup said, “Is your curiosity satisfied yet? Or would you like to gawk a little more?”

“Gawk?” Jack asked. “You think I’m here to _gawk_?”

“Isn’t that what you said? You saw a house, you got curious, you decided to stick around and find out who lived here?”

“Well, yeah, but then I actually wanted to try and strike up a conversation with you. You know, actual interaction?”

“Not really, no,” Hiccup said.

Jack looked up at the sky. If he went now, he’d still be hours early. But it wasn’t worth it. He’d find something else to do.

Then Hiccup sighed. “Sorry,” he said. “Guests aren’t really my thing.”

“I can leave,” Jack said.

“Can you … explain one thing first? You said Toothless was a Grimalkin, and that I was his Master,” Hiccup said. “What does that mean?”

Jack couldn’t help grinning. So it seemed he wasn’t entirely unwelcome after all! “Which bit, the Grimalkin, or the Master?”

“Both. All of it.”

Jack was torn for a moment. On one hand, Hiccup looked so embarrassed it was almost comical. On the other hand … how could he have possibly ended up as a Grimalkin’s Master without knowing anything about the creature?

“Well,” he said, and pointed to Toothless. “That’s a Grimalkin.”

“Funny,” Hiccup said.

“Hey, you said ‘all of it’,” Jack said. Much of the antagonism had gone from Hiccup’s voice, though, and he seemed to take Jack’s joking retort in the spirit it was meant. “But really though, how long have you been living with Toothless?”

Hiccup’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Well, however long it is,” Jack said quickly, “I bet it’s long enough to know more than I ever will about Grimalkins. I know they can appear as either that” he waved a hand at Toothless, “or as black housecats. I know they’re big, strong, and that I don’t want to cross one if I can help it. I know they follow, protect, and serve one Master, to the exclusion of anything else.”

Hiccup glanced down at Toothless. “He doesn’t follow me,” he mumbled. “The fickle thing’s out hunting as often as he’s at home.”

“I bet you if you got in real trouble, he’d still be there within a second. He’d never go far.”

The look on Hiccup’s face told Jack that he was remembering a time when Toothless had done exactly that, but didn’t want to admit that Jack was right.

“Well, that’s up to Toothless, I suppose,” Hiccup said. “What else do you know?”

Jack paused, then said, “I know their master is always either Pitch Black, or one of his court.”

Hiccup’s frown turned from one of curiosity into one of outright befuddlement. “Who’s Pitch Black?” he asked.

Jack waved his hands. “I guess,” he said, then hesitated. How did one explain Pitch Black without also explaining North? The courts? “Well, he’s sort of important around here. Most of the fairies in this part of the forest follow him. Especially the … less savoury folks. He did a deal with the Grimalkins a long time back, I heard, and they all work for him now. Sometimes he gives them to favoured courtiers, as kind of a reward. I thought maybe you …”

Hiccup shook his head. “Never heard of him.”

Jack nodded. “Well, I believe you.”

Hiccup raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You’re far too casual about him to be anything but totally ignorant.”

“People hate him that much?” Hiccup guessed.

“Well, sort of. If you’re not one of his people, you’re probably scared of him. If you are, he’s probably put you under some sort of agreement to never speak ill of him or Face the Consequences!” To emphasise the last phrase, Jack curled his fingers like claws and bared his pale white teeth.

Hiccup actually laughed at him for that, barely more than a snort, but still the first genuine laugh Jack had seen out of him.

Jack grinned. So, he was making progress! “At least, that’s the usual reactions.”

“What does that make me, then?” Hiccup asked, and Jack wondered how much of the question had been to Jack, and how much had been to himself.

He answered anyway. “Probably naïve and unwise, or something like that. Why, what was your guess?”

This time, the laugh was a wry chuckle. “That’s probably pretty accurate,” he said.

They lapsed into silence. Hiccup looked over at the gardens.

“Hey, do you mind if I hang around for a while?” Jack asked. “I’ve got something in the evening, so don’t worry that I’ll stay forever. It’s just that I have time to kill until then and … you know …”

Hiccup shrugged. “Don’t suppose it matters,” he said, and sat down, laying out his tools in front of him. Toothless curled up in front of him, head resting on his huge paws, green eyes half-lidded but clearly still watching intently.

Jack sat down, staff resting across his lap, and watched as Hiccup pulled out a knife and started to slice the soft wood into chips. Hiccup didn’t seem at all inclined to speak, and Jack didn’t want to push his luck, but after about five minutes, he started to fidget.

“What are you doing?” he asked, finally.

“Paper,” Hiccup said absently, clearly not taking his mind away from the wood chips in front of him.”

“Bees, chickens, tanning, paper …” Jack said. “You do everything yourself, don’t you?”

Hiccup’s head retreated a little back into the collar of his shirt, tilting down to hide his face.

“Sorry,” Jack said.

Hiccup chipped away at the wood. Once or twice, Jack saw him open his mouth as though he were going to say something, but he never looked up at Jack for it, and he was

After another few minutes’ pause, Jack said, “You don’t talk much, do you?”

“You talk a lot,” Hiccup said.

Jack stood up, putting his hands up. “Alright, I see how it is. Tell you what, I’ll leave you to it, and maybe I’ll see you some other time.”

Hiccup nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

Jack didn’t point out that Hiccup sounded particularly dubious about the prospect. He just left. Toothless watched him go, but Hiccup didn’t even look up.


	3. A Party to Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of these days I’m gonna write a fic where the Guardians are just … nice people. In general. With uncomplicated relationships to Jack. One day, I swear.

Jack took his time flying through the trees towards North’s palace, mulling over his conversation. That ‘Hiccup’ really hadn’t seemed that interested in him coming back, but he clearly wasn’t a fairy, and he was the master of one of Pitch’s creatures without ever knowing the name Pitch Black. That alone made him worth a little persistence. Besides, Jack had very nearly befriended Hiccup by the end there, before he’d gotten all absorbed in making his paper. When it came to friends, Jack couldn’t resist a challenge. He’d stuck by Aster all these years, hadn’t he?

***

The sun was just starting to set as Jack started to get close to the old ruins that held North’s palace. The clearing was in the middle of old ruins, now nearly completely overgrown with trees. If you knew where to look, you could see the stones poking through old roots and moss, many of them the faces of old, fallen statues. The ground sloped gently down here, and Jack found himself floating as much as flying towards the centre of the ruins, a place which once had been underground.

By all rights, the trees ought to have grown up to the mound, just like they’d overtaken the rest of the ruins, but fairies would be fairies, and there was an area large enough to hold a picnic for a small village completely bare, except for the raised mound in the centre, granite headstone long since lost to lichen and climbing vines. If one knew where to look on the mound, and, of course, how to look, there was a door buried in the greenery there, which once led down to an old Emperor’s tomb – and a hundred of his best warriors, if the stories were true.

Jack checked the sun and ducked down to pull the hanging vines away. There was the door, wood near as heavy as stone. Jack hit it twice with the base of his staff, and it made an echoing, booming noise.

There was nobody behind the door, but it swung open for him nevertheless.

“Thanks,” Jack said to nobody in particular. The door swung closed after him.

***

The mound might have belonged to an Emperor’s tomb once, but now it ended in an archway, and opened onto an orchard.

Without being used to travelling here, or without paying close attention, it would be very difficult, however, to tell that this was supposed to be a garden. By most measures, it was indistinguishable from the forest outside the mound. The sun was in the same place, the trees were just as tall, the bark just as brown, the dirt and moss felt the same under Jack’s bare feet.

But in the forest above, trees competed for dirt and for sun, and they grew in all types and varieties. Here, every single tree grew lush and wild, no elegant rows, but somehow all thriving, and all the trees bore fruit. Every fruit hung heavy and vibrant. None of it rotted on the ground underneath the trees, and none of it was green or unripe.

Jack picked a pear off the tree and ate it as he walked, tossing stem and core aside when he was done. By then, he was near the edge of the orchard, where the trees abruptly ended.

Although the castle – Jack had never been able to bring himself to call it a palace – it was a huge stone behemoth, either a castle or a fortress; there were no other words for it. It was the kind of castle that looked like it had been built when first people learned to put one stone on top of the other. It was blocky and square, with one tower on the South-Western corner just like a storybook tower. Between Jack and that castle, though, there were lawns and flower beds, tiered and terraced, with climbing vines meticulously coaxed onto shaping frames arranged at focal points, where they could be admired and discussed by guests. It was a manicured thing of hedgerows and secret flower gardens that you could smell long before you saw

Jack passed them by – they were more landmarks to him than novelties – and made his way towards the sound of music and revelry coming from near the castle.

As he reached the edge of the party, he came across Fey in groups of two and three, gathered with drinks and chatting behind their hands. He ignored them mostly, heading directly for the front doors of the palace. North, he knew, would be right in the middle of everything, and that meant either in the sitting gardens at the front gates of the castle, or in the foyer and dining hall – the first rooms inside.

Today, North was outside. Chairs had been brought out for the occasion, and the food table was located behind him. From the bustle inside, Jack thought there might be another table inside as well. On the outskirts, Jack could see the tiny elf servants bustling around with this or that — they were all fairly similar-looking, and extremely small, and seemed to get in their own way as much as help out, so Jack hadn’t entirely figured out their purpose. He’d thought for a while they might be a construct of North’s — North was always tinkering with something and tiny servitors was not necessarily out of the question. Or perhaps there was some deal or pact involved. Jack had asked one of them once, but it had only made squeaking noises at him and flailed around a bit, and he’d been unable to glean anything from the conversation. He certainly hadn’t tried asking North. Whatever their purpose, it was clear that most of the _real_ work was done by the gigantic — even bigger than most fairies — shaggy yetis (as North had called them, and Jack had never questioned), who worked remarkably delicately for their size, and faster than they looked, as Jack had discovered the few times he’d tried to sneak in.

As Jack approached the larger portion of the gathering, currently clustered around the seats and the musicians. There was dancing, though not of any sort that Jack found in the least entertaining.

North looked up. “Frost?”

Jack gave him a small gesture, half wave, half salute, leaning on his staff. “North. Long time no see.”

“Yes,” North agreed. “Long time.”

Jack looked around. “You don’t look happy to see me.”

North shrugged. “Is surprise. We did not know you were coming.”

One of the nearby fairies, behind their fan so that Jack couldn’t tell exactly which of them had said it, said “Although by this point it should not truly have been a surprise …”

Jack pretended he hadn’t heard.

“Jack,” North said, standing up from his chair. He walked over to Jack, rested a hand on his back, and started to steer him away from the main conversation. Once they were a few steps away, he said, “We have _talked_. If I need entertainment, I call you.”

Jack stepped away. “Entertainment? If I recall correctly, we also talked about me always being welcome for dinner. So, I’m here. Let me get some dinner. Mingle a bit. You know, just like everyone else.”

“This is not dinner,” North said. “This is party. Different thing.”

“North, can’t you just for _once_ let me stay? Half these people wouldn’t even know I wasn’t … you know, one of you … if you didn’t insist on telling them every chance you get!”

North sighed. “Jack, why do you keep coming back? You come, I tell you to leave, you leave. You come back next time. Is fine for me – but it must be embarrassing for you, no? And do not act as if you do not tell people you are not fairy, too. I speak to Toothiana, you know.”

“Be less embarrassing if you’d just let me stay,” Jack said, trying to cover his snippy tone with a grin. “Come on, North! You invite everyone to these parties!”

“I invite all _fairies_ to these parties,” North corrected. “You say you are not. You say this many, many times.”

Jack sighed. “Right. I get it.”

“I have let you in many times anyway,” North said.

“I know, I know.”

North gave him a pitying smile and clapped him on the back. “Get plate on your way out, hm? We at least give you dinner, yes?”

“Sure,” Jack said. It was a deal that North would never have offered to anyone else. Eating someone’s food meant accepting their hospitality, after all. You didn’t just eat someone’s food and then _leave_. But Jack wasn’t a fairy, so it seemed North was willing to let him bend the rules a little. At least he could take it as a sign that North felt a little guilty every time he had to kick Jack out of his house.

On his way past the buffet table, Jack snatched a half-plate of pastries, and then he headed back out the way he had come.


	4. Toothsome Treat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True facts: Going back to edit these chapters soon after writing the like … end of this story? All the characters read weird now. That’s not what they’re … oh wait there were 150,000 words of character growth that they haven’t had yet. Oops.  
> Some of you think I’m joking about 150,000 words. You would be wrong.
> 
> (Also I totally didn't nearly forget to post this today of course not I would never)

Jack didn’t eat his pastries right away. Instead, he took a bag from one of North’s yetis, and flew away from the mound to a little home in the woods. Not too far from Aster’s, really, but he knew for a fact that Aster and the resident of this cottage weren’t on speaking terms.

The gates were shut, but only waist high. Jack unlatched them, and walked under the metal archway adorned with climbing vines. He could have easily flown over, straight to the door, without disturbing any of the leaves or so much as a thread on the strung decorations, but as a matter of courtesy, he always came down the front path.

The first arch was decorated with climbing vines, the hedges and gardens so thick on the sides of the path that the small paved area was the only place one could even think to walk once one was past the fence.

The second arch, however, and most of the area beyond it, was decorated much more according to the resident’s personal theme.

Strings and strings of teeth adorned the garden. They hung from the second arch like All Hallow’s Eve decorations, they lay in the bushes along the side of the path. Jack pushed them away with his staff so they didn’t touch him as he passed, the teeth rattling as the strings fell back into place. The sound quickly faded, though, absorbed into the background noise of the rest of the forest: rustling leaves and twittering birds. Jack tapped on the door with his staff, and waited until it was opened.

“Tooth!” he greeted the Fairy who opened the door. “You weren’t at the party tonight.”

The bright eyes on the other side of the door creased as a gigantic, white smile appeared underneath them, and then the door was opened all the way.

Most descriptions Jack had of Toothiana boiled down to “birdlike”, with an angular face and near-triangular nose, above a wide, blindingly white grin. She wore a dress that clung in the body and flowed in the sleeves, patterned like a bird’s feathers. Her neck and wrists were adorned with teeth, old and yellowed after centuries of wear.

Jack held up the bag of pastries and shook them. “From North’s latest,” he said. “I brought enough for two.”

Tooth let out a long breath. “North’s latest? Jack, I don’t go to those things for a reason.”

Jack grinned. “No reason to miss out on the food, though.”

Toothiana stepped away from the door, and Jack entered the house. Inside, there were fewer teeth than outside – no gaudy household fixtures made of them, no murals of incisors and premolars. But they were here and there, if one knew where to look – a box on the mantel that Jack knew was full of particular favourites. A few stored in jars in the kitchen, a few strings hanging down in particular doorways.

Jack dropped the bag of pastries onto Tooth’s table, and Tooth opened it to peek inside. She tipped them out onto a plate in the middle of the table, but didn’t take one. Jack took a delicate thing of cracking pastry and broken spun sugar, with a halved fruit and soft custard in the centre.

He gestured for Tooth to take one, but she shook her head. “Not a sweet tooth. You know that, Jack.”

Jack shrugged. “Only thing that would fit in the bag,” he said around a mouthful of pastry. “Without leaking, I mean. Besides, you know what North is like.”

“I do,” Tooth said.

There was a long silence. Jack grinned half-heartedly. “Well, don’t make me take the rest of them to Aster.”

A bad joke and they both knew it. Jack would never take fairy food to Aster, a human. Tooth shook her head. “I don’t want one. Glass of … something?”

Jack shook his head. “No. Thanks.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Up to anything lately?” Jack asked.

“No additions to the collection,” Tooth said.

Jack couldn’t help feeling at least a little glad about that. No new teeth meant no more children tricked out of them. Sure, Toothiana was a little less actively malicious than most about her deals, but teeth were old magic, and there wasn’t a lot you could do with teeth that wasn’t sinister in some way or another. As far as Jack knew, she just liked to collect them, but then … would she have told Jack if that wasn’t the truth?

“Why do you keep going back to North’s parties?” Tooth asked, half a sentence, half a sigh.

Jack shrugged, and took another pastry. “Good pastries,” he said.

“You keep getting thrown out.”

“But would North’s night really be complete if he didn’t get the chance to chase me off his property? Besides, you know all his guests talk about it for a month every time I show up. It’s a bit sad, really.”

“But you only seem to be making yourself upset over it. Isn’t there something else you can focus on?”

“Sure there is. I just choose to do this instead.”

Tooth shrugged uncomfortably, and finally took a pastry. As she chewed, she lifted it like a glass to toast. “My compliments to North’s chefs,” she said, resigned.

“They don’t do much except pastry, but they do that remarkably well,” Jack agreed, finishing his second pastry.

They sat in silence together for a while, as outside the birds called, the leaves rustled, and the teeth outside rattled gently in the breeze.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Jack said, after a while.

“I know you don’t like me talking about the teeth,” Toothiana said.

“You know what?” Jack said, standing up suddenly. “It’s been a long day. Sorry to drop in unannounced.”

“Take the pastries,” Tooth said. “I’m not going to eat them.”

Jack nodded, tipped the plate of pastries back into the bag, saluted Toot and left. He walked all the way down the front path before he took off. It was a courtesy thing.


	5. It's Sweet, but It's Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, the title puns aren’t going away. Just bear with me, I promise the story will make up for my terrible sense of humour.

Hiccup was about halfway through slicing up the wood for his paper when the sun finally set enough that it was too difficult to see. He sighed.

“Alright, we’re done for today. Come on in, Toothless.”

He scratched the Grimalkin behind its ears, eliciting a growling purr from the throat of the great cat, and took the bowl of wood shavings inside.

Toothless nudged through the door after him and, transforming into his smaller cat shape mid-leap, jumped up onto Hiccup’s bed and curled up.

Hiccup made himself dinner. Toothless had been out hunting already, but he made such unbearably mournful expressions when Hiccup ate without giving him anything. Hiccup tossed him a rabbit’s back leg to keep him happy.

Dinner was finished, the kitchen was clean, Toothless was purring on the chair in his smaller cat form, and it was nearly time to go to bed when there was a knock on the door.

Hiccup groaned. “It’s him again, isn’t it?” he mouthed at Toothless, who put his head on the side and said, _prr-ew_?

Hiccup sighed. He started to strap his wooden foot back on. The knock came again.

“Coming!” Hiccup called. “Dammit, I’m coming.”

The knocking stopped. Hiccup got his foot strapped on, and pulled on his big, padded winter surcoat over the top of his nightshirt, so at least he wasn’t answering the door only half-dressed.

It wasn’t like Jack would be staying long anyway.

Hiccup opened the door to see Jack, grin somehow managing to bring life to his blue-tinged face. Jack was leaning on the door frame. He shook a paper bag at Hiccup.

“Peace offering?”

Hiccup closed his eyes for a moment, as if he could fall asleep standing and avoid this conversation entirely. “The sun set a long time ago.”

“Your lights were still on,” Jack pointed out.

“For all of about three minutes. I’m about to go to bed. Can’t this wait?”

Jack opened the bag and showed the contents to Hiccup. “Do you know how quickly these things go stale?”

Hiccup tried to look into the bag. “It’s too dark to see. What is it?”

Jack pulled out a pastry and waved it at Hiccup before taking a bite. “They’re good. Fairy, though. I was sorta hoping that I guessed right and you aren’t exactly … human.”

Well, he wasn’t, but that didn’t necessarily mean that fairy food mightn’t be a problem. Hiccup looked down at Toothless, who gave his leg an encouraging nudge with his face, which Hiccup took to mean it would be fine. Well, Toothless knew more about these things than he did, so he’d trust the cat.

Damn. No using it as an excuse to turn Jack down politely, then.

Hiccup sighed and rested his forehead against the door. “Jack, isn’t there someone else you can spring baked goods on?”

“Tried that already. Twice, if you count getting them in the first place.”

Hiccup hesitated. The grin was still plastered in place on Jack’s face and his tone was flippant, but the grin was just a little … too steady. Something didn’t ring quite right.

“Please?” Jack asked. “I feel bad for barging in on you today. Let me make it up to you.”

Hiccup sighed again. “Give me two minutes.” He shut the door on Jack.

He figured he didn’t have time to change completely, so he just left the big surcoat on and pulled on hose underneath, to cover his legs when he sat at the table.

“Lots of clothes for such a warm night,” Jack said.

Hiccup dropped a plate onto the table, just a little more forcefully than necessary. Jack just emptied a few pastries onto it.

Hiccup sat down with a sigh and took one, bringing a stand of a few candles over. He could practically see Jack biting back an ‘oo, how romantic’ joke. He tried to ignore that, and instead used one of the candles to get a better look at the things on the plate. They were golden brown, and crunched at the lightest touch of his fingers. There was fruit on them.

Jack was watching him, hiding a smile behind his pastry.

Hiccup hastily pushed the corner of the square thing into his mouth. It was so sweet. Sweeter than the honey from the bees he kept. It crunched in his mouth and then it was soft. He couldn’t place all the flavours, except for the fruit and the sweetness and maybe something like eggs. He had never tasted anything like it in his whole life.

Jack wasn’t even bothering to hide his smile know. In fact, he’d finished nearly his whole pastry.

Hiccup swallowed quickly and put the back of his hand over his mouth.

“Good?” Jack asked.

Hiccup didn’t answer.

“Either that, or it was awful. You just sort of sat there staring off into the distance for a while.”

“It’s strange,” Hiccup said. What did one do when you had guests over? What was this thing that Jack had put on his table? He nearly stood up to get some tea for them both, but Toothless chose that moment to jump up onto his lap and rub his head on Hiccup’s arm, so he was forced to awkwardly sit back down.

“Relax,” Jack said, with a chuckle.

“Sorry,” Hiccup said, looking down and scratching Toothless behind the ears.

“Don’t be sorry,” Jack said. “Just relax. You look …” he trailed off. “Unsettled.”

“You were about to say ‘pale’, weren’t you?”

“I was _going_ to say like you’d seen a ghost,” Jack said.

“What made you stop?” Hiccup didn’t know what he wanted the answer to be. And did it matter if Jack’s answer was honest or not?

“Changed my mind.” Jack didn’t so much as blink. He finished off half of a second pastry.

Hiccup picked at the pastry on the table. It was too sweet for him, and too strange.

“Why me?” he asked suddenly.

“Hm?”

“Why me? You got these from the fairies, right? That means you have friends with them. So why come to me?”

“Wondering if I’ve come to try and poison you?” Jack asked. Hiccup knew he was evading the question, but he played along.

“Toothless seems to think it’s fine,” Hiccup said. “I think. Are you totally sure it’s safe, by the way?”

“Totally safe,” Jack said, waving a hand. “As long as you’re not human.”

“Right,” Hiccup said. “Totally safe.” And this was why he’d never had guests. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said, to change the topic back to Jack.

Jack’s face froze a little in its grin, just like when he’d answered the door.

“Sorry,” Hiccup said again. He realised suddenly how Jack must have taken that question, when he’d only meant to ask … no, he was kidding himself if either meaning was any less awkward.

Jack shrugged, and adjusted his staff where it leaned on the table. The awkward silence stretched on as Hiccup scratched Toothless just to have something to do with his hands.

“Guess you didn’t like the pastry,” Jack said, and started to put the rest of them back into the bag.

“N-no. Not really my …” Hiccup trailed off. He focussed on Toothless’s head, his hands buried in the cat’s fur.

Jack looked him up and down, and sat back down slowly in the chair. “Wow,” he said. “You’re really nervous, aren’t you?”

Hiccup stood up, tipping Toothless off his lap. Stiffly, he picked up the plate and started to wash it in the sink. He knew he was only making it worse, and that Jack hadn’t meant anything by it, but he just … needed to be up and doing something.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Jack stand up, scratching the back of his neck. “Hiccup, I’m … sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”

Hiccup put the plate aside and shook his hands out in the sink. “No,” he said. “Thank you … for the pastry. Even if it wasn’t … I mean, if I didn’t …”

“You don’t have to be nice about it.”

“I know,” Hiccup said. “I’m not just being nice.”

“Really?” Jack asked, looking pointedly at the pastry on the table.

“No, I’m not …” Hiccup pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just … it’s very sweet.”

Jack chuckled. “It’s very sweet, but it’s very sweet?”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said, hearing Jack’s need to relieve the tension in the joke. “Something like that.” He turned to Jack, and saw Jack grin hopefully. He managed to return it, just. But he saw Jack’s face fall.

“I’ll go,” Jack muttered. “Keep the …” he waved a hand at the half-eaten pastry on the table.

Hiccup had been looking forward to having his house to himself again since the beginning of the night, but now that Jack really was about to leave, he felt twin pangs of guilt and loneliness. He hated to not have his house to himself for another moment, but he couldn’t let Jack leave like this.

“Wait,” he said, holding a hand out, and Jack stopped in the door. Hiccup all of a sudden realised he didn’t know how to continue from there.

“Um,” he said.

Jack turned back. “Look, you can stop being polite about it. I know you don’t want me here. I’m not stupid.”

“Come back sometime,” Hiccup said. “Please.”

Jack ruffled his hair with one hand. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he said.

“Just … during the day,” Hiccup said. “I’m generally out in the garden, but we can talk or something.”

Jack nodded slowly. “No strangers in the house, huh?”

Hiccup looked away. “Unannounced strangers … aren’t my thing.”

“I get it. I’ll be announced next time. Promise.”

Hiccup nodded. “Thanks.”

“And I promise not to ask personal questions,” Jack said, grinning. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that, too.”

And then the door was shutting and he was gone, while Hiccup felt the blood drain out of his face and his hands start shaking. He sat down heavily in his chair. Toothless jumped back up onto his lap, and Hiccup scratched the black cat behind the ears.

He pulled the pastry over, and held it to Toothless’s face. “You want this?”

Toothless sniffed it twice, then turned his head away, headbutting Hiccup in the stomach to request more pats.

Hiccup scratched him behind the ears and dropped the pastry back on the table. “Didn’t think it was your sort of thing,” he said.

Before he went to bed, Hiccup tossed the pastry out into the woods.


	6. The Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also, when I was writing the rest of it, forgot exactly how many damn chapters I spend introducing all the characters.  
> (Also I'm so glad I decided to read this through before posting -- I must have gone through this chapter like eighteen times how the hecking heck were there still so many continuity errors and bad sentences in it. Heck.)

In the morning, Hiccup sat up and looked for a long time at Toothless, who was, as usual, in his smaller, black cat form so he could sleep on Hiccup’s chest.

For years, he’d sort of put it out of his mind that he barely knew anything about Toothless. When they’d first met, he’d always sort of assumed that he’d learn more about the ca – the Grimalkin – as they went along. But the years had passed, and he’d grown so used to Toothless that somewhere along the line he’d sort of forgotten to keep questioning. The Grimalkin never really did anything except hunt and beg Hiccup for food, and occasionally sleep on Hiccup’s herb garden.

Hiccup put his hand on the Grimalkin’s head, eliciting a sleepy _prrp_.

“Where did you come from, hey?” Hiccup asked quietly. “Jack was right, you know. You go hunting all day, but you always seem to be just nearby.”

Toothless didn’t appear to be listening to him. His ear flicked as Hiccup’s thumb brushed against the sensitive hairs.

Hiccup sat back. “Never mind,” he muttered. “I’ve never heard of Pitch Black before. As long as you’re not still working for him, right?”

To Hiccup’s surprise, this elicited a deep growl from Toothless. One green eye opened and glared at him.

“I didn’t say you were,” Hiccup said. “I believe you.”

Toothless wiggled his shoulders, snuggling down a little further. That was all the answer Hiccup got.

***

Jack gave the trees one last glance before he slipped between the hanging vines and into the concealed door of another fairy mound. On the other side, he took a moment to look around.

It looked like a normal clearing in the woods, though it couldn’t be seen from outside the mound. In the centre was a tall, stone tower with a pointed roof and hearth smoke merrily drifting from the chimney. There were no doors at the base of the tower, and no stairs, only a few windows on the top storey, one of which had a balcony decorated with pots of flowers.

He probably should have come here first, as soon as he got the pastries. But he’d sort of known that Toothiana would refuse … and he did owe Hiccup an apology. Next time, he promised himself. Next time, straight here.

The sound of singing drifted down from the top of the tower, which meant that the occupant was alone. He stepped onto the air and let himself drift up the tower slowly, finally coming to rest on the windowsill. He knocked on the stone.

From one of the other rooms, the singing stopped suddenly. There was a thud and then feet slipping on the stone. Jack chuckled.

From upstairs a young woman came into view, her truly astounding amount of hair gathered up in one arm, a feather duster in the other. Her dress was a bright, pale pink, but both her dress and her face had little grey patches on them from the dust. On her shoulder, a tiny, green lizard — Jack knew full well it was a chameleon, but he’d never let the little critter know that — on her shoulder, giving him a disgruntled look. Her face broke into a grin, then resumed its frown as she got a little closer.

“Jack! If Mother sees you …”

Jack shook his head. Punzie always worried about that, even when her ‘mother’ was away for days on one of her trips. He summoned his most casual, reassuring grin. “She’s nowhere to be seen. Besides, you know she has to catch me before she does anything to me.”

Rapunzel shook her head. “You’re going to get in so much trouble one day …”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck and acted as contrite as he could. “I … actually …”

Rapunzel sat down in front of him, letting her hair drop onto the floor and setting the duster aside. She reached one hand up and rested it on his shin. “Jack, what happened?”

Jack gave her a grin that was half wince. He waited just long enough for her eyes to widen in horror, before he dropped the paper bag of pastries into her lap.

“Went to see a friend,” he said. “Got you a present, Punzie.”

Rapunzel stared, speechless, at the bag of pastries for a minute until the realisation dawned. She slapped Jack’s leg, lips pressed together disapprovingly. The lizard — Pascal — gave him a disapproving look. As usual.

Jack howled with laughter, until Rapunzel slapped him again.

“Jack! You had me worried!”

Jack calmed down a little, and wiped his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Apology not accepted,” Rapunzel said grumpily, opening the bag and looking inside. “Oh! Jack, you shouldn’t have!” She lifted the bag up to him. “Guests first!”

Jack took one out. “Fine. Just one. But the rest are yours.”

Rapunzel took one out, smiling. “Jack, you remembered my favourites!”

“Maybe I’m just unoriginal,” Jack said, grinning. “No, I lie. You know I’ll always remember your favourites.”

Rapunzel was human, for all intents and purposes, of course. But her meals were all cooked by Mother Gothel who was about as fairy as they came, so any damage from fairy food was already done long before Jack had started sneaking her North’s pastries.

“Flatterer,” Rapunzel said, with a mouthful of pastry. “You know I’m still mad at you for scaring me.”

“Worth it,” Jack said. “Even with the hitting. Ow, by the way.”

Rapunzel ignored him, concentrating on her pastry. She closed her eyes. “Mmmmm. These are so good. Jack, promise me one day you’ll tell me where you get them?”

“One day,” Jack said. “Promise. Hey … you leave the tower and I’ll even make it into a little play.”

Rapunzel looked down. The hand with the pastry in it dropped into her lap, and the other arm wrapped protectively across her chest. “You know I can’t do that, Jack.”

“Come on,” Jack said. “You can’t tell me you _like_ being locked up in here.”

“It’s not so bad … when you get used to it,” Rapunzel said, still looking down at her lap, and shrugging.

“Really? I’d have run off _long_ ago,” Jack said. “Seriously, Punzie, what keeps you here?”

“Tell you what,” Rapunzel said, with a weak attempt at a smile. “You tell me how you got the pastries, and we can talk about why I don’t want to leave again.”

Jack’s smile faded. “Alright, I get the picture,” he said.

Rapunzel frowned. “You OK, Jack? I didn’t mean it like that …”

Jack shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he said.

Rapunzel poked his leg. “Come on. Usually you joke around when I say things like that. You know – ‘uh-uh-uh! Keep trying to make bargains like that, you’ll have me thinking you’re a fairy!’” Her impression of Jack was uncannily close – not that Jack would ever admit it. Pascal was giving him a smug look, too, which of course he ignored.

“Sorry, Punzie,” Jack said. “Guess I’m just not feeling it today.”

Rapunzel scooted a little closer, hands on her chin to indicate that she was listening closely.

Jack sighed, and pushed her face aside with his foot. Rapunzel spluttered. “Ew, Jack! Gross!”

“Well, don’t look at me like that, then!”

Rapunzel sighed, and dropped her hands into her lap again with a flounce. “You’re impossible,” she complained.

Jack shrugged. “Part of the charm.” He tried again for a grin.

Rapunzel shook the bag to pick another pastry.

“Ah, guess I should tell you,” Jack said, as a plan started to form in his mind. If it worked, of course. He still wasn’t sure he could manage to get Hiccup to do anything but grump at him, but if he could… “Found another friend. I think. Friend-to-be maybe.”

Rapunzel raised an eyebrow. “Friend-to-be? You mean they don’t know you yet?”

“No,” Jack said. “He knows me. He’s just … prickly.”

Rapunzel looked as if she was waiting for him to continue.

“Lives alone in the woods with a cat,” Jack said. “Think I went to visit him at a bad time, though.”

“Oh,” Rapunzel said. “Well, I’m sure if you just … talk it through?”

“Tried that,” Jack said. “I think I managed it, but he’s a little … hard to read.”

“Prickly. You said.”

“Seems like once you get past that, though, he’d be pretty interesting. Was hoping to introduce you two, if I can get him here. I think you’d like him. He’s got a pet that doesn’t like me, too. You’ll get along famously.” He looked at Pascal. “Not sure how much you’d like the cat, though.”

Pascal stuck out his tongue at Jack.

Rapunzel’s eyes lit up for a moment, then she seemed to think better of it. “You know, Jack, you can be very … quick about these things.”

Jack chuckled. “I know, Punzie, I know. Only if he agrees. You want to meet him, if he says yes?”

“Well …” Rapunzel said, fiddling with one finger in the way she always did when she was trying to say that she wanted something without actually coming out and saying it. “If he agrees …”

“It’s a deal, then,” Jack said.

There was a rustle from down below. Jack looked out the window. Rapunzel, pastry in mouth, looked up at him suddenly, and Pascal made a worried little squeak.

“That’s my exit cue,” Jack said.

“Is she …?” Rapunzel asked, around her mouthful.

“Yup.” Jack reached down into the bag and grabbed a pastry.

“You said the rest were mine!” Rapunzel said, snatching the bag away, just a bit too late.

“One for the road,” Jack said, winking, and floated out the window, hiding on the other side of the roof.

Inside the house, there was a rattling and thudding, as Rapunzel gathered up her hair and ran up to her room to hide the bag of pastries before Mother Gothel returned.

Gothel’s voice, saccharine and lilting, drifted up to the top of the tower. “Rapunzel! Let down your haaiir!”

“Coming, Mother!” Rapunzel called, running to the window.

Jack waited only until Gothel had climbed into the window before stepping onto the air and letting the wind take him away again, unseen.


	7. Night in the Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack has an excuse. The question is how Aster knows.  
> The answer? He has his ways.

In the evening, Jack let the wind take him where it would. He and the wind had an understanding — if there was something he needed to see, the wind would take him there.

The wind took him to Aster. He alighted just outside Aster’s fence, right as Aster was rushing out the door, pulling his weapons belt on.

“Jack! Pitch Black.”

Aster vaulted over the gate instead of opening it. Jack didn’t need any encouragement. He let the wind push him alongside Aster, keeping up with Aster’s long, loping strides. If he pushed off the trees he could go a bit faster, but then he would leave Aster behind.

He pulled up level with Aster, and asked, “Are you sure?”

“Can’t be anyone else,” Aster said.

“North’s people like to make trouble, too,” Jack pointed out.

Aster’s face was sour. “Jack, he’s after the village.”

“What do you mean ‘after’? Fairies don’t attack, they lurk!” That was one of the Rules. Wait in the forest for people to wander out, yes. But attack?

Aster gave him a stony look, and Jack stopped questioning.

***

Aster slowed down as he reached the edge of the forest, and Jack fidgeted, moving back and forth in front of Aster, scouting as far ahead as he could without leaving signalling distance. He hated it. Jack could move fast and stay silent if he wanted to, but Aster, human as he was, had to be careful of every leaf and twig. It was agonising, moving so slowly.

Leaves rustled, but it was only the wind. Jack was thoroughly on edge — it wasn’t even sunset yet, and they were near the edge of the woods where the trees weren’t so thick, and yet it was too dark to see past the first few trees. Jack’s ears felt strange, too, everything sounding slightly muffled. If he hadn’t trusted Jack that this was Pitch Black’s work — or one of his underlings — he would have been convinced now.

Aster signalled impatiently for him to move ahead, and Jack finally picked up his pace, barely even bothering to stay hidden in the shadows.

There it was.

The edge of the forest. The town. Berk, or whatever it was called.

Jack hung back in the trees, out of sight, looking, searching, for a sign that something was amiss.

Nothing. The fires in the village were crackling. There were voices, laughter. It was dinner time.

Jack felt his heart constrict in his chest.

“They haven’t reached the village yet,” Jack told Aster.

“You sure about that?”

Jack nodded. “Sure as I can be.”

“Right. Then we hole up here. Near here’s their best bet to get in, so keep a sharp eye.”

Jack hopped over to the next tree. “You dig in, I’ll watch.”

Underneath him, the leaves started to rustle. Jack scanned the trees, first left, then right. Pitch was cloaking the trees, so his creatures had to be close.

Light.

Without a word, Jack hopped onto the air and sped towards the light. It flickered, which meant fire. Plenty of Pitch’s creatures had or used fire – no smell, though, so that ruled out a few. The fire was too small to be a few others. Then …

It retreated through the trees, moving parallel to the edge of the forest. Jack followed it, pausing every so often to get his bearings and watch for which direction the light was moving.

He felt, almost more than he heard, the growl behind him. It was sitting right next to him on the tree branch, and so close that he could feel the air vibrating on his ear.

He froze. The thing by his ear didn’t move. He looked as far to the side as he could without moving his head, until his eyes hurt with the effort, but it was far too dark and the thing was too far behind him.

The growling stopped. The creature smelled him.

Then silence.

Jack let out the breath he’d been holding. The light was so far away it had almost disappeared, but he didn’t dare pursue it at the same speed as before.

The light made a slow circle, towards the village and then back again, the way it had come, wandering well inside the border of the forest. Jack changed course, angling to cut the traveller off as it turned, getting just a little closer …

Then the lantern stopped, and Jack, going faster than he’d originally intended, used his staff to swing himself between two trees, dropping down onto the ground to find the owner of the lantern.

Hiccup was on one knee in front of Toothless the Grimalkin, lantern sitting on the dirt beside him. He was just a little lower than head height to the huge beast, scratching it under the chin as it purred.

“Good boy, Toothless,” he murmured, then looked up at Jack.

Jack froze, mind whirling. The lantern light drained any colour from his already pale face, darkening the circles under his eyes and making them shadowed and unreadable. Jack felt sick. How could he have been so stupid?

Then Hiccup’s expression softened. He turned back to Toothless, and kept scratching the big cat under the chin.

“I guess Toothless gave you a bit of a fright, huh?” Hiccup said.

Jack’s throat was tensed so hard that he couldn’t answer. He had to do something. Lift his staff, say something, _anything_ to keep Hiccup from getting closer to that village. But his body wouldn’t move to obey him. He opened his mouth and instead of speaking, his breath hitched. He’d only been friends with Hiccup for a day – how could he feel so betrayed?

Aster came crashing through the trees behind Jack, his own lantern held tight, flame still flickering like it had only just been lit.

“Jack! There you are! There’s nothing out there – after you ran off, everything went …” He stopped as he saw the Grimalkin (that Jack couldn’t bring to call by its name anymore).

Hiccup stood up slowly, one hand resting protectively on the Grimalkin’s scaly head.

“Jack?” he asked.

Jack raised his staff. “Pitch attacked the village tonight,” he growled.

Hiccup stared at Jack for a long time, his face blank and bewildered. The Grimalkin growled deep in its throat, but its posture never changed, obeying its master’s cautioning hand.

“Nothing attacked the village tonight,” Hiccup said.

Aster looked between Jack and Hiccup. “Jack?” he asked, voice hard and cold. Jack’s breathing convulsed again. Oh, by the gods, now Aster knew that he had tried to be friends with a Grimalkin’s master. His staff started to shake. Oh gods, what had he done?

The Grimalkin’s head dropped to the ground, his black coat and Hiccup’s legs hiding what it was doing from the lantern light. Ducking under Hiccup’s hand, it started moving slowly over to Jack and Aster.

Jack pointed the staff down. Aster brought his crossbow up with one movement and fixed it on the approaching Grimalkin.

But the creature stopped just at the edge of the lantern light and dropped something onto the ground, then retreated back to Hiccup’s side, lying down with its tail curled around its haunches, watching Jack intently.

Jack, with trembling hands, picked up Aster’s lantern and moved closer, until he could see what the Grimalkin had dropped.

In the dirt, there lay a small wing and arm, around half the size of Jack’s arm, still bleeding at the stump. The feathers were ghost-white and the arm was adorned with claws near as long as the creature’s fingers. The thing was skeletal and coated in blood and something else – it took Jack a moment to realise it was Grimalkin saliva.

The Grimalkin started purring contentedly.

Jack suddenly lost all feeling in his legs and dropped to the ground with the lantern.

Aster tensed, and Jack managed to croak “He killed it, Aster. It’s dead.”

There was a long moment. Toothless stood up, and Hiccup knelt down again beside him, one hand on the Grimalkin’s back. Aster looked down at Jack and the dismembered limbs on the ground, and then lowered his crossbow.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. “It’s a strange night.”

Jack used his staff to turn the wing over, but found nothing new to be seen on the other side of the thing, except that dirt had clung to the fresh blood.

Aster unloaded the crossbow and packed it away. “Jack?” he asked.

Jack waved a hand at him. “It’s OK. I’ll … I’ll explain later.”

Aster glanced between them, then sighed, and rubbed his eyes. “It’s too late for me. Take care, mate.” This last was not said with his usual flippant tone, but with a hard look at Hiccup and Toothless.

He left Hiccup and Jack alone in the clearing.

Hiccup scratched Toothless behind the ears and walked over to Jack, kneeling down beside him. “Hey – you alright?”

Jack looked up at him and gave him a weak smile, pushing himself up on his staff and trying to pretend he wasn’t leaning on it. “Long night and a weak stomach,” he said. He’d much prefer that Hiccup believe he had no stomach for gore than try to explain … everything.

For a moment, he thought that Hiccup was going to press the issue, but then Hiccup stepped back, looking away to where his hand was occupied scratching Toothless behind the ears. “It’s late, just like your friend said.”

“Yeah. Town’s safe. Job done.”

“Right,” Hiccup said, looking off towards the edge of the forest. “Come on, Toothless – we’ve stayed long enough.”

Jack watched Hiccup and Toothless move away from the town. So, he understood what Aster had against Pitch’s creatures trying to get to the village … but Hiccup hadn’t even heard of Pitch before.

What was his stake?


	8. Persuasion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiccup is just lucky Jack doesn't give up, that's all I can say.

Hiccup woke late the next morning. Toothless, for once, had slept late as well, after their long night. Toothless was sleeping spread across his hips, which he took as a sign that he should not be getting up just yet, despite the light streaming through the window onto him. He knew from experience that if he was to try and get up when Toothless was in one of these moods, he’d soon find himself pinned under the larger, scaly – Grimalkin – form, rather than the infinitely more manageable black cat.

He draped an arm across his eyes to block out the light, and rested his free hand on Toothless’s back, feeling Toothless purring. Toothless _murr_ ed at him.

“So, you’re awake, you just want me to have a sleep in this morning,” Hiccup said. “Alright, point taken.”

Hiccup opened his mouth to ask Toothless about Jack, but he that was futile. Toothless wouldn’t offer him any insight he didn’t already have – not least because he couldn’t actually speak – and besides, Jack was easy enough to read. Hiccup may not have been around hu – other hu – no, _humans_ for years now, but the expression of betrayal was one you didn’t easily forget. For a minute there, Jack had truly believed Hiccup might be the one attacking the village.

That … should have stung, Hiccup thought, but really, he could only see how he would have made exactly the same assumption, under the circumstances.

A few minutes later, Hiccup decided he was decisively awake, and no amount of being laid on was going to change that.

“Up, Toothless,” he said, and with a _mrrr_ of protest, Toothless stood up and stretched. Hiccup grunted as Toothless’s claws pricked through his blanket and nightshirt.

“I know you don’t like being moved, but there’s no call for that.”

Hiccup swung into a sitting position on the side of the bed and reached for his leg leaning on the bedside table. Toothless waited patiently for him to do up all the buckles so that he could be let out to hunt.

Hiccup dressed and ate, and got out his cuttings from the day before. The day was clear, so no chance of getting rained on.

As he arranged everything outside, Hiccup noticed that Toothless was still hanging around the edge of the clearing.

Jack was there, too, watching both Toothless and the door to the hut, both cautiously. Hiccup tried to disguise the sudden leap his heart had done. Was he … actually glad for the company?

Then he remembered the night before. Was Jack here to talk about it? To make Hiccup explain? To say he never wanted to see Hiccup again? Hiccup thought Jack had realised that he wasn’t the one that attacked Berk, but what if …?

“Didn’t expect to see you back so soon,” Hiccup said, trying to be cautious, setting himself down on the little row of stones that bordered his garden, bowl of wood resting in his crossed legs, and started to chip wood.

“Yeah, well, get used to it,” Jack said, plopping down opposite him. “I’ve been told I’m persistent.”

Hiccup tried for a friendly smile. Jack was tense, there was no denying that – that grin had frozen on his face again and every movement looked like he had to concentrate to make it casual – but it seemed that Jack wanted to avoid the topic entirely. Well … Hiccup wasn’t going to mention it if he wasn’t.

“Hey, that’s a bit more encouraging than the other day,” Jack said. He dropped a bag in front of Hiccup.

“Trying again with the pastries?” Hiccup asked, still finishing off the last of his wood slicing before he picked up the bag.

“Nope. Sorry, nothing but new and fresh failure with me. It might be frustrating, but at least it’s never boring.” Jack grinned.

Hiccup chuckled. “Well, can’t have my frustration getting boring,” he said. He dropped the last of the slivers of wood into the bowl and reached down to pull the bag open.

It was half full of nuts and dried fruit.

He felt the smile creeping onto his face without him really intending to. “Well,” he said, picking out a chunk of dried apple and putting it in his mouth, “It’s definitely not too sweet.”

Jack laughed nervously. “As in, flavour, or …?”

Jack was grinning like he was joking, but his shoulders were drawn up just a few centimetres too high and he was watching Hiccup very closely.

Hiccup popped a couple of almonds from the packet into his mouth, responding only with a slightly evil grin, then picked up another piece of wood and began to chip it into the bowl.

Jack didn’t say anything. Hiccup tried to concentrate on the wood, but it was way too distracting having Jack just … watching him.

“Hey,” Jack said, as Hiccup slowed down. “I know you’re …” he waved his hands vaguely. “In the middle of something. But do you think you might want to come with me for a while?”

Hiccup looked up. A list of the chores he still had to do that day ran through his mind – he hadn’t checked the hives, he needed to tend those broken herbs, he was running out of time to make paper before he ran out of notebook …

Jack was still watching him.

“Where?” Hiccup asked, stalling for time to decide. “How far?”

Jack shrugged. “Well, you gave Aster a bit of a turn last night …”

Hiccup looked down at the wood. “Well, uh …”

“Not your fault,” Jack said quickly. “But you know, you and Aster actually have a lot in common. You’d get along!”

Hiccup highly doubted that, but he didn’t say it out loud.

“You’re not still mad about the crossbow thing, are you?”

“Crossbow? No – that’s not it.”

“Well, come meet him, then.”

Hiccup glanced up at Toothless, who was sitting with his paws folded under his chin, watching them lazily over his scaly nose.

“Fat lot of help you are,” Hiccup muttered. 

Jack looked over his shoulder at Toothless, then grinned at Hiccup. “Besides … I’m kind of looking forward to seeing Aster’s face when a friendly Grimalkin turns up at his door.”

Hiccup studied Jack’s face, looking for signs of hesitation, any sign that he was kidding, or trying to set Hiccup up for embarrassment – anything that Hiccup could use as an excuse to not go with him. But there was nothing there – the only thing on Jack’s face was honest, open hope.

Hiccup looked away. “I’ll think about it,” he said.

Jack didn’t reply for a very long time. Then he stood up. “Well.”

Hiccup sighed and rubbed his face. “Sorry,” he said.

Jack leaned on his staff, watched him for a long time and then sat back down. “So … that’s not a yes …?”

Hiccup picked up another piece of wood and started to shave it into the bowl. He hadn’t felt like this in years. He had a series of responses all thought out, but none of them seemed to want to come out of his mouth.

Toothless walked over and headbutted Hiccup hard in the shoulder. Hiccup nearly dropped his knife.

He looked up at Jack to see the pale boy watching him and Toothless in mild confusion. He grinned sheepishly. “I think Toothless insists,” he said after a moment, hating every word out of his mouth.

Jack put a hand over his mouth, but couldn’t hide the sound of a snicker.

Hiccup turned his attention to slicing the wood again, but Toothless nudged him in the shoulder again, forcing him to move his hand away or cut his finger. He batted at the scaly cat, pushing his muzzle to the side, which earned him another shove.

Jack snickered again.

“Don’t think I’ll forget you two ganging up on me,” Hiccup said, mouth moving before his brain thought it through.

But far from being put out or angry about it, Jack started to grin. “Looks like it only really takes Toothless to gang up on you.”

“When your pet is this big, it’s a gang all on its own,” Hiccup agreed, scratching Toothless behind the ears.

“Come on, then,” Jack said, holding out his hand. “Before you think too much and change your mind again, OK?”

Hiccup took Jack’s hand – it was ice cold, but it wasn’t like temperature had bothered Hiccup for a long time.


	9. Beets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a guiding rule of writing that nobody should have big, long, rambling, off-topic conversations on-page and thus I either need to timeskip, keep interrupting people or keep a character like Jack around who just can’t seem to make it through a whole conversation.  
> Let characters just hang out with friends 2k20

Hiccup kept his hand on Toothless’s head as Jack led them through the woods. Neither of them spoke for a while, until Hiccup asked, “So, you never told me how far away Aster’s house is.”

“Uh.” Jack scratched the back of his head. “Actually … I’m not exactly sure.”

“You’re not sure? You seem like you know the forest pretty well.”

“I do. I’m just … usually flying this part. It’s a bit quicker.”

Hiccup stopped dead. “Flying?”

“Yeah,” Jack said, just a bit too casually. Hiccup wondered if he’d let that slip, rather than really intending to tell Hiccup about it.

“Seems, uh …” Like something a fairy would do. But Jack seemed to be a bit touchy about that, so Hiccup didn’t finish the sentence.

“I know,” Jack said, and sighed. “Look, you already figured out I’m not human, I’m guessing. And I proved I’m not fairy.”

“You did,” Hiccup said.

“So … let’s just chalk this one up to me being a little weird, alright? Here, I’ll show you.”

Jack demonstrated, lifting off the ground and using his staff to swing himself around between a few trees, then touching back down.

Hiccup had to smile. There were a few things, he’d decided, that suited Jack perfectly. Laughing was the first, then planning pranks. But he hadn’t quite decided yet whether the flying took third place, or should be in second. The way his hair ruffled in the air, the way he seemed to glide from perch to perch with a precision that simply wasn’t there in his casual stride … Jack looked as though he were designed specifically for flight.

He realised he was staring. But there was no time to pretend he hadn’t been before Jack landed and gave him a little bow.

“Well, you don’t have to look quite that impressed,” Jack said, one eyebrow raised.

“Never seen someone fly before,” Hiccup mumbled.

Jack grinned. “I made friends with the wind a while back. Turns out it was a pretty good idea.”

Hiccup looked down at Toothless, who had stopped to groom his face. Well, it wasn’t like Hiccup didn’t have more than his own share of secrets, and there were a few things Hiccup could do that weren’t exactly human-like, either. Hiccup shrugged. “I guess it’s not the weirdest thing I’ve heard. Hey – I think I see a house.”

“Yeah! That’s Aster. Come on – I’ll introduce you.”

***

“No,” Aster said, closing the door in their faces.

Well, that was that, then. Hiccup turned to go, but it seemed like Jack wasn’t quite done yet. “Aw, come on Aster!” he called through the door, giving the wooden frame a solid thump with his staff.

Aster opened the door again. “Jack. You first. We need a word.”

Jack glanced back at Hiccup and winked, before following Aster inside.

Hiccup sat down on Aster’s front step, scratching Toothless’s head in his hands and looking around the garden. Most of the garden was vegetables and herbs, not unlike Hiccup’s. Hiccup could see a small rabbit hutch around the side of the house, but the rabbits themselves were out of sight.

They were really taking a long time. To distract himself, Hiccup knelt down next to Aster’s garden, rubbing beet leaves between his fingers. Hmm. He poked a finger into the soil next to one. Hard to tell without digging up a plant, but …

He patted the soil back into place and brushed off his hands.

Aster and Jack appeared at the door.

Jack was looking down at the pathway, leaning his staff over his back. Aster leaned on the doorway and crossed his arms.

“Jack tells me you’re not a fairy,” Aster said. He looked Hiccup up and down. “So how’d you get the cat?”

Hiccup opened his mouth, but … explaining where he got Toothless would mean explaining what he was doing, and that …

“He … seems to think he owes me a favour,” Hiccup said evasively.

“Grimalkin’s got to owe a pretty big favour before they change sides, mate,” Aster said.

Hiccup sighed. “Like, I saved his life sort of big? At least, that’s what he seems to think.”

“Seems to think?”

Hiccup’s hands clenched into fists. “I did save his life, then, alright? I just don’t want to get into it.”

The silence that followed was very deep. Hiccup brushed his hair out of his face and said, “Black root rot.”

“Eh?” Aster’s eyes narrowed.

“Black … black root rot. In your beets. You … you go into town, right? You need to buy a bag of East Coast salt and water the soil with salt water made from it. Steam the soil, if you can. Boiling water. And make sure you weed well, so it doesn’t spread.”

There was a long pause, and Hiccup was about to tell him to forget it, when Aster said, “Thanks. I’ll do that.” He looked down at the beets. “Thought they were looking a bit average this year.”

“Yeah. I noticed because the leaves were a bit …”

“Speaking of,” Aster cut him off. “You look a little crook yourself.”

“Thanks. I’ll make sure to apply my powders properly next time,” Hiccup said, sarcasm entirely from reflex.

Aster shook his head. “Bloody great. You went and found another you, Frost.”

Jack spread his arms, grin once again lopsided and sincere. “Hey, you always said I was talented.”

“Cup of tea?” Aster asked, holding the door open. “And, uh … whatever it is your pet abomination eats?”

The words were harsh, but the tone was close to indifferent, and it took all of the sting out.

“He hunts for himself mostly,” Hiccup said, shuffling past Aster inside.

The inside of Aster’s house was a little dark, since the windows were so small, and it smelled of drying herbs – particularly garlic, which hung in huge bunches from the ceiling. They were in a huge living area, comprising both the kitchen and the living area (two large, wooden chairs full of old, worn cushions, and a few smaller chairs around a heavyset table). A single door off the side of the room presumably led to Aster’s bedroom. Hiccup assumed there would be some form of workshop out in the back garden.

Aster disappeared around the back of the house for a moment, and returned with a whole dead chicken, which he threw to Toothless.

“Just so long as he doesn’t take it on the rug,” Aster said.

“Toothless,” Hiccup cautioned. Toothless looked at him with baleful green eyes, but sat next to the door with his chicken, well away from Aster’s rug.

Jack and Hiccup took seats at the table, and Aster started to make tea on the stove. When it was done, he sat a cup down in front of each of them, and asked, “Black root rot, eh?”

“Used to be a common problem,” Hiccup said.

“Never heard of it from the villages,” Aster said.

“They …” Oh, curse his big mouth. “They have resistant crops now,” Hiccup said. “They had to trade for them, though.”

“You do a bit of trading there too, then,” Aster said.

“What, with this face?” Hiccup waved to his ashy skin and the dark circles under his eyes. “No, thanks. Used to, though.”

Aster gave a little nod of understanding. “I can imagine you get a few questions about that.”

“Fewer than you’d think,” Hiccup said, which was technically true, since Aster probably thought he interacted people other than Toothless.

Well, and Jack now, Hiccup supposed, since Jack seemed determined to hang around.

“You and fairies don’t seem to get along,” Hiccup said to Aster.

“Not as a rule, no,” Aster replied, sipping his tea with surprising delicacy for a man otherwise so rough-looking. “Specially not the ones around these parts. Jack says you live fairly near, though.”

Hiccup nodded. He knew the types that Aster was talking about. Pitch’s people, if what Jack had said was true. “I do. I keep out of their way, they keep out of mine.”

“Says the kid with the Grimalkin,” Aster pointed out.

“Well, not like I knew that before Jack came and pointed it out,” Hiccup said. “As far as I knew, he was just some forest creature that hung around to beg for my dinner.”

Toothless _murr_ ed, and Aster and Jack both looked up at him sharply.

Aster glanced at Hiccup, one eye raised. “Mate. If a Grimalkin is your idea of a pet cat, please never tell me what the _dangerous_ animals are like where you come from.”

Jack had finished his tea, and was fiddling with the cup. Hiccup looked up at him.

“Never sits still enough to have a conversation,” Aster said. “Alright, you can go.”

Jack shrugged, pushing the teacup away. “Sorry, Aster. Hiccup’s got a few more people to meet before we’re done with him today.”

Aster groaned. He turned to Hiccup. “Here’s a tip, kid. Jack means well, but he’ll get you killed one day if you’re not careful.”

Hiccup could have laughed, but instead he said. “I’ll … keep an eye out.”


	10. Making Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you believe I actually omitted Pascal in the first draft of this story? Not on purpose, just because I got caught up in Plot and clean forgot he existed.  
> Sorry, Pascal. You exist now, and I have paid for my crimes in hours and hours of editing.

Jack strode through the forest, staff over his shoulders, humming a little. Once they were out of sight of Aster’s little cottage, he turned to Hiccup.

“See? I told you you’d get along.”

Hiccup gave a noncommittal shrug. “I told him his garden is dying, if that counts.”

“For Aster? That’s probably the kindest words he’s exchanged all month.” Jack’s wide grin made it clear that he was joking at least a little bit … but Hiccup suspected it was only a little bit.

“Besides,” Jack continued. “Talking about his garden is pretty much as close to best friends as he’s ever going to get.”

Hiccup shrugged. “Well, I’ll take it, I suppose. Where are we going next? Somewhere close?”

Another mistake. As soon as he said it, he winced. He’d been too obvious. It was true, though – he did hope that he was going somewhere close. There was a lot he had to do at home … but if he was honest with himself, he just sort of wanted to get meeting all these new people over and done with.

“Why?” Jack asked, grin teasing, tone light and mocking. “Getting homesick already?”

Hiccup’s hand twisted in Toothless’s fur. “Just … wondering,” he said.

Jack’s grin faded, and he said, “It’s a little way away.”

Ah, Hiccup was no good at this. As far as Hiccup’s expectations of meeting new people went, the day had gone remarkably well so far, and Jack seemed to be trying his best. It was just one day. He could play nice for one day. Especially since, if he were honest, Jack had piqued his curiosity Hiccup took a few long steps until they were walking side by side again, and tried to return Jack’s grin. “Well, you should have told me sooner. I’d have packed a lunch.”

Jack shrugged. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” He looked Hiccup up and down. “Hm. How are you at climbing?”

Hiccup frowned. “Climbing? Why?”

“No reason.” Jack hurried ahead again.

***

Jack walked up to a large rock and started sorting through the vines. Hiccup folded his arms.

“Jack, what are you doing?”

“Finding the entrance,” Jack told him. “It’s not hard, it’s just … difficult to see from the outside.”

Hiccup raised an eyebrow. He knew Jack wasn’t fairy, but this seemed to have a distinct fairy feel to it.

Jack studied Hiccup’s face for a moment, then seemed to get the idea. “Yes,” he said. “It’s a fairy mound. But I promise, it’s not what you think.”

“And what do you think I think?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t look pleasant, because you’re scowling like a thundercloud,” Jack said, obviously trying to lighten the mood. Hiccup tried to oblige, but only managed to replace the scowl with an expression of moderate concern. He put his hand on Toothless’s head, and the big cat bumped his leg.

“You live with a Grimalkin,” Jack pointed out. “I promise, I wouldn’t want you to meet this person if she wasn’t worth meeting.”

That was true, but Toothless didn’t seem to like something about this mound. Hiccup looked down at Toothless, who looked up at him with an ambivalent expression.

“You’re no help,” Hiccup sighed, and scratched the big cat behind the ears. Well, he’d promised that he’d come and meet people. One day, wasn’t that what he’d said? Play nice for one day? Besides, Jack had been so eager, and despite all his grumbling and moaning, Hiccup found that he did want to make Jack happy.

He sighed and scratched Toothless’s ears again. “Lead on,” he said.

Jack grinned as widely as Hiccup had ever seen, and used his staff to pull aside some of the vines.

There was a fissure in the rocks, behind the vines. Hiccup thought he’d have to turn sideways to fit through, but once he was past the opening, he found it was surprisingly wide.

On the other side was a clearing, one that had certainly not been there from the other side of the rock. The trees had been thick in the part of the woods they were in, but here there was a great meadow. In the centre was a huge tower, which had also very clearly not been there before they’d crossed through the rock.

Hiccup felt a little chill. So, he was actually inside a fairy mound. At least two of his father’s worst nightmares come true.

He looked up at the stone building towering over them, shielding his eyes against the sun only half hidden behind the turret. It was a single tower, rough brick but lacking any sort of entranceway, at least from this side. “Jack.”

“Yeah?”

“When you said climbing …”

Jack laughed. “It’s not that bad, I promise. Give me just a moment.”

Hiccup watched him as he rocketed upwards, away from Hiccup and towards the solitary window at the top of the tower.

He saw Jack land on the balcony and lean in through the door. He held that position for a while, and Hiccup wondered if he might be conversing with the person inside.

Then, all of a sudden, something huge and golden fell down towards him, stopping dead with a _thwump_ as the end flicked back up, and then fell down again. Hiccup touched it.

It was hair.

He looked up at the top window. Jack was leaning out from the building at what Hiccup considered an irresponsible angle, one foot on the edge of the balcony and one hand gripping the stone side of the frame and the rest of his body suspended in midair, looking down and gesturing with huge sweeps of his arm for Hiccup to climb up. From inside the window, the owner of the hair leaned out – someone with a round face, hair looped over a green hook near the top of the window, holding it in a huge bunch near where it met her head. Her dress was pink, but he couldn’t tell any more detail than that from all the way down here.

He grabbed the hair, and hesitated. He tried to imagine someone climbing up his own hair, and winced. He might not have been large, especially by the standards of his village, but that didn’t change the fact that he was a grown adult, and that hair was presumably attached to a scalp.

Then Jack was beside him.

“Scared of heights?” Jack asked.

“No,” Hiccup said. “Just … wouldn’t it hurt?”

“That’s what the hook’s for,” Jack said, waving a hand. “And she’s got a good hold of it.”

“Oh,” Hiccup said. “Good.” Well, nothing for it, then. He admonished Toothless to stay where he was, scratched the Grimalkin’s ears, braced his legs, and started to climb up the long hair.

It was an arduous climb. Hiccup wasn’t weak — you couldn’t be when you did as much chopping, carrying and building as he did — but the tower was very tall, and his muscles weren’t used to moving in exactly that way. But he soon realised that the owner of the hair was helping to pull him up, and that made the climb much, much easier.

As he approached the balcony edge, Hiccup found himself eye to eye with a small, green reptile of some description, with bulbous eyes and a curled tail. It seemed to be regarding him suspiciously.

“Pascal, Hiccup. Hiccup, Pascal. Think Toothless, but green. Well, greener.”

“Uh,” Hiccup said. “Good to meet you, Pascal.”

The little creature croaked at him, and then moved aside so that he had access to the balcony.

Hiccup swung his legs over and sat down, to take the weight off the hair. The owner of the hair — a round-faced girl who looked a little younger than Hiccup, although that might have just been her features, dressed in the pinkest dress Hiccup had ever seen in his life — pulled the rest of it back up and over the hook. The dress was more fashionable than Hiccup had expected, side-laced and puff-sleeved, over a white chemise, but the cloth was simple enough that it was clearly a house-dress rather than something for wearing to events. She was a little flushed from the effort of helping to pull Hiccup up the tower. There was more hair up here even than it had seemed at the bottom of the tower, piled up around her feet. Hiccup sat on the windowsill, afraid to step onto the floor because it seemed to all be long golden hair coiled over itself.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, it gets everywhere …” the owner of the hair said, smiling sheepishly and trying to gather it all up.

Hiccup gave up trying to figure out how best to help her, and instead looked over the edge of the tower, to check that Toothless was still there.

He was: green, scaly face turned up towards the window and green eyes blinking slowly at them.

The owner of the hair seemed to forget all about the hair still piled all over the floor, looking down with some concern. “What? Something wrong?”

“Just checking if Toothless is still there,” Hiccup muttered.

“Who’s … oh!” With a gasp, she pulled herself up onto the balcony ledge, leaning out to an angle that nearly had Hiccup making a grab for the back of her dress to stop her falling. “Is that Toothless down there?” She turned to Hiccup, eyes bright. “Is he yours?”

“He’s not …” Hiccup began, before Jack cut him off.

“Yes, and don’t let him tell you any different. Hey, Punzie, mind picking up your hair so that Hiccup can come in? I’m a bit left out up here by myself.”

‘Punzie’ gasped again, and half pushed herself, half fell back into the room, gathering up her hair and rushing back from the window to give Hiccup some space.

Hiccup hopped down from the windowsill, and Jack swung in, landing lightly on the rug.

“This is Hiccup,” Jack said, gesturing to Hiccup with his staff. “You know, another loner in the woods. Don’t laugh at the name.”

“As if you’d ever leave anyone alone long enough for them to be a loner,” ‘Punzie’ said, folding her arms.

Jack laughed. “Well, don’t blame me, he was hiding until a few days ago. Oh. Hiccup, Rapunzel. Or Punzie. I’ve about worn her down to where she doesn’t even mind the nickname.”

Rapunzel gave Hiccup a smile that, he suspected, was supposed to look sheepish, but had a bit too much genuine pleasure in it for that. “I won’t laugh at your name if you don’t laugh at mine, alright?”

Was her name particularly amusing? But the little green lizard, now sitting on Rapunzel’s shoulder, was glaring daggers at him, so he didn’t question. Seemed Jack was right about the ‘greener Toothless’ thing. “Sure,” Hiccup said. “You live alone up here?”

“No. Mother is out at the moment.” She glanced up at Jack. “She doesn’t know I get guests.”

Hiccup found a very clear picture painted for him very suddenly. “Oh,” he said.

Pascal, who had apparently abandoned the balcony, climbed up Rapunzel’s hair and stepped onto her shoulder.

Jack landed lightly on the floor behind them. “Besides – maybe if I can get you two to talk to each other, you might not need me around so often.”

“I don’t suppose that I could argue that Toothless counts as company?” Hiccup asked, following the change in topic.

“Not in the slightest,” Jack said cheerfully.

Rapunzel seemed to be jumping on the topic change as well. “So, Toothless doesn’t look like a usual cat. What is he?”

Hiccup looked at Jack, who gestured for him to speak. Given Jack seemed to know so much more about the topic than him, Hiccup found that mightily unfair.

“Um. He’s … I mean …” Hiccup scratched the back of his head, and gestured down to the Grimalkin under the window. “Guess he followed me home and I kept him?”

Pascal glanced down at the balcony, roughly in Toothless’s direction, then back up at Hiccup. The little reptile only had a small face, but that just meant his scornfully dubious expression was more concentrated.

“What do you mean? You said you saved his life,” Jack said.

“Really?” Rapunzel asked, eyes glittering as she pushed some of her hair behind her ear.

Hiccup looked away. He didn’t want to go into the story. “Yeah,” he said.

There was a pause, then Jack said, “Ah, don’t worry, Punzie. He only mentioned that this morning and I’ve been trying to get him to recount the thrillingly heroic tale since then, but apparently we’ll have to wait for now.”

“Jack,” Rapunzel said, a little disapprovingly.

Toothless made a noise outside, and Jack and Rapunzel’s eyes both snapped to the window. Rapunzel hurried onto the balcony to look down again, and gasped suddenly.

“Mother!” she called.

Jack grabbed Hiccup by the back of his shirt, before Hiccup even had time to ask what they were going to do, and dragged him upstairs through the house to a window on the other side of the house, in what seemed to be Rapunzel’s bedroom. Hiccup didn’t have the time to feel embarrassed about that. Jack was already half out the window. Hiccup put the pieces together very quickly. Jack could fly. Hiccup hadn’t seen a staircase in their mad rush through the house, so for whatever reason, Rapunzel’s hair seemed to be the only way in and out of the tower. Jack could fly, so he probably figured he’d carry Hiccup down somehow — he’d dragged Hiccup by the collar easily enough.

But Hiccup had always had that little voice inside him that told him to do the stupid thing, make the bad choice. Climb the tree, go walking in the fairy woods at night. Jump out the window. Besides, whether Jack had guessed it or not, Hiccup didn’t really need to worry about what would happen when he hit the ground.

“Don’t be scared,” Jack told Hiccup. “I’ll catch –”

But Hiccup was already out the window and falling.


	11. Adrenaline Rush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Valentine's Day so have some dorks.
> 
> Still a lot of unanswered questions. But there's cute dorks?

It had been somewhat of a dream for Hiccup for a long time. Not to die – nothing like that. But to, just once, listen to the little voice in his head that told him to do something reckless. Once upon a time, running into the woods had been enough. But that had become routine, and even he wasn’t foolish enough to do any of the things that the little voice whispered to him. Later, he’d been on his own and could technically do whatever he wanted … but he had a farm to keep and Toothless to look after, and there just wasn’t the time for indulging fantasies.

But now, here was the opportunity he’d been looking for — the world was practically begging him to take it! And so he had, pushing himself away from the stone window and out onto open air. He closed his eyes as they began to water, his hair ruffled in the breeze as he fell. His chest felt tight with a combination of feelings he hadn’t felt for a long time - some of it fear, yes, some of it racing excitement, and the rest just pure freedom.

He was almost disappointed when he felt Jack’s arms catch him under his armpits and across his chest, but then Jack caught them both in a swoop and the breath went out of his lungs in the most exhilarating way as he lifted again, feeling the air pushing on his face …

And then, with a grunt, Jack dropped him. Hiccup had no warning, and his limbs were still limp from relaxing into the fall, so he crumpled into the grass, arms buckling under him, rolling onto his back. He let out one huge, heaving breath, then another as Toothless’s face appeared above him, glared at him, and then gave him a hard nudge. He fended off the wet nose and tried to roll over so he could push himself to his feet, but his arm folded under him again, and he collapsed.

Then Jack was there, looking down at him, too, crouching over Hiccup with his staff in one hand and resting on his shoulder.

“Not that I mind,” Jack said. “But a little warning might be nice next time.”

Hiccup laughed, voice shaking, but couldn’t muster another answer for a few moments. He managed to get to his feet, brushing down his clothes. Toothless rubbed against his leg, and automatically, Hiccup scratched him behind the ears.

Jack was still watching him, and finally he managed to push his hair out of his face and marshall his language skills enough to say something.

“We should keep going,” Hiccup said. “Just in case.”

Jack waved a hand. “Ah, she never notices anything once she’s in the tower. And she doesn’t usually go into Punzie’s room anyway, so we’re safe down here.” Hiccup tried to look down at Toothless and away from Jack, who was still studying him, suddenly embarrassed about the big, goofy grin plastered across his face.

“Who is she?” Hiccup asked, looking up at the tower.

“Punzie calls her ‘Mother’. She’s not Punzie’s real mother, though. Her full name is Mother Gothel.”

“Oh. Does P – Rapunzel know?”

“She … yeah, she knows,” Jack said, looking up at the tower with an unreadable expression. Then he shrugged. “Still. I’ve been trying to get her to leave for a while now, you know.”

Hiccup nodded slowly. “I … see. So that’s why you brought me.”

Jack shook his head. “Nah, I just thought you two would get along. But hey, if you want to help, it can’t hurt.”

Hiccup wasn’t sure entirely whether to believe that or not. But any response he might have given was interrupted by a piece of paper floating out of the window above them. Jack pushed gracefully off the ground and plucked it out of the air. As he floated to the ground, he read it, and his face turned grave.

Hiccup waited till he was standing on the ground again, and leaned over his hands, trying to read the note upside down.

_She saw Toothless._

“You were right,” Jack said. “We should go.”

***

The walk back to Hiccup’s hut was mostly silent, until about halfway. Then Jack turned to Hiccup and said, “So, today was pretty informative.”

“Informative?” Hiccup asked, blood still pumping from his fall from the tower, less guarded than he was before.

“Well, before today, you were a loner in the forest with a superpowered pet kitty,” Jack said.

Somewhat to Hiccup’s surprise, that didn’t even produce a glare from Toothless, just a haughty look. The two of them together were going to be a handful and a half. Hiccup could tell.

“Thanks,” Hiccup said, one eyebrow raised.

Jack continued as if he hadn’t heard. “And now I know that you get a rush from jumping out windows, and you used to go to town but you don’t anymore.”

Hiccup shrugged. “I, uh. It was a bit of a desperate situation. And yes, that’s … accurate.”

“You certainly didn’t hesitate. With the window,” Jack said. “I won’t pry any further, by the way. I’m just saying, I’m a little glad I got you to leave the house and actually talk for a bit today.”

“I was perfectly happy on my own,” Hiccup said quickly.

“I know you were,” Jack said. “But I’m curious by nature, and if I didn’t find out at least _something_ about you, I might have exploded.”

“I still don’t know much about you,” Hiccup pointed out.

Jack was silent for a moment, then he said, “What do you want to know?”

Hiccup was honestly surprised. “What, just like that?”

“Well, I pushed you into coming out today so I could learn more about you. It’s only fair.”

“You’re not a fairy,” Hiccup said. “You’re not a human. So …?”

Jack was silent for a moment, then laughed and pushed his fringe back from his face. “Figures. Guess that was kind of question I should have expected.”

“I’ll ask something else,” Hiccup said quickly.

Jack poked a tree with his staff, and frost crystals spread from the point of contact, travelling over a section of the trunk. Hiccup had to stop to take it all in fully.

“I got a partial answer from you,” Jack said. “So you get a partial answer from me. Deal?”

“Deal,” Hiccup said, still staring at the tree. Then he turned and hurried to catch up with Jack. His head swarmed with questions that he held in his mouth instead of asking, so he wasn’t able to speak for a long time.

Jack stopped at the door to the hut. It was mid-afternoon, and the best of the sun was going. Hiccup was going to have to work quickly if he was going to get everything done that afternoon, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe that he’d wasted the day. Toothless butted Hiccup’s hand for one last scratch, then bounded away into the woods to hunt.

Hiccup picked up the bowl, wood and knife, and looked around at Jack, who was scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

Hiccup waited for him to speak. Jack finally looked up with a sheepish grin. “Well, guess I should at least be honest about this. Everyone else … Aster, Punzie … they all know about me. It’s … sort of a point of contention.” He paused, then corrected himself. “Well, Punzie knows a bit. Not quite everything. Pretty much everyone else knows everything, though.”

“Alright,” Hiccup said. “Well, it doesn’t have anything to do with me, right? So you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Jack chuckled and shook his head. “You’re odd, you know that? How about a deal? I’ll tell you the whole story when you’re ready to tell me the story of how you came to be the master of a Grimalkin.”

Hiccup baulked. “Nobody … nobody else knows about that,” he muttered.

“I know,” Jack said, with that awkward, forced grin popping onto his face again. “It’s not exactly fair, is it? Sorry.”

“No …” Hiccup paused. “It’s fair. I don’t need to know yours, so I probably wouldn’t hear it from the others unless you wanted me to. So … deal.” He nodded, more decisively than he felt. He said it again, for good measure. “Deal. But … not now.”

“No, of course,” Jack said. “Of course – not now. Just, if you ever …”

“When,” Hiccup said quietly.

Jack’s grin became suddenly honest, widening until Hiccup was afraid it might split his face in half.

Hiccup tried for a smile. When his mind didn’t supply a follow-up, witty or otherwise, he said it again. “When.”

Jack’s grin returned to its normal place on his face. “Well, I call today a success! I’ll let you be alone now, though. You probably need a break from me. See you soon?”

“Sure.”

Jack pushed into the sky and then he was gone.

Hiccup sat heavily on the stairs, and tried to concentrate on shaving wood into the bowl. He must be getting close to enough soon …

And why, oh why, had he said he’d tell Jack everything? The concept didn’t bother him as much as it really should have. He didn’t even mention that day to Toothless if he could help it — and Jack, who he’d only known for a few days? It wasn’t even because of the promise of finding out about Jack’s past. That would be nice, certainly, but it wasn’t _important_.

He sighed and shook his head. That was a question for later. First, he had to check his herbs and make paper.


	12. Pitching an Idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello naughty children it's time for antagonist.
> 
> Also, update: I've officially finished the edits now, and for those playing along at home, that means that the update schedule is about to increase. I am fundamentally not a patient person. New schedule is chapters every three days, subject to small wobbles one way or the other. Have fun. Hope you enjoy the ride.

Jack floated through the air away from Hiccup’s hut, heart pounding so hard it was making his ribs feel uncomfortably tight. His shoulders were shaking. He flew faster and faster through the trees, but never quite felt he was going fast enough. He just had to do something to get rid of all the nervous energy inside him.

He swooped upwards through the trees, through the canopy, into the sunlight. He sometimes forgot how nice it was to feel the sun on cold skin.

When he plunged back through the leaves, it was very dark. Unnaturally dark. Jack froze.

“Jack Frost. It’s been a long time since I last saw you out this way.”

All the excitement seemed to drain out of him, replaced with another emotion. Something colder, harder, one that Jack preferred to think about as little as possible. “Been a long time since there was anything worth coming out this way for,” he replied, trying for flippant but knowing his voice had an edge to it.

Pitch Black stepped out towards Jack. It was hard to tell where the shadows ended and Pitch’s robe began. Even his slick hair blended into the darkness. His skin was grey, but while Hiccup’s was the grey of illness, Pitch’s was an inhuman, stone-like grey. Nobody could have mistaken Pitch for anything other than a fairy.

He smiled an angular smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, as always.”

“Uh-huh,” Jack said, eyes roaming around the trees, everywhere but at Pitch directly. Pitch might have preferred to work alone, but he wasn’t above leaving a few nasties hiding around just in case he needed to really surprise someone.

“So, if you there hasn’t been anything worth seeing out this way,” Pitch said. “What changed your mind?”

There was no way that Jack was going to sell Hiccup out. “Just making sure,” he said. “I was right.”

“Oh,” Pitch said casually, running one long finger down a crack in the tree bark. “And here I thought it had something to do with the little hut in the woods that you’ve been visiting.”

Jack kept his mouth tight shut.

“Oh, _please_ ,” Pitch said. “Jack! Don’t tell me you didn’t think I’d be keeping an eye on that little house! The only Grimalkin I’ve ever lost lives there, and that’s more than interesting enough to keep eyes on. Don’t you agree?”

“Guess so,” Jack said, keeping his voice calm.

“I also hear that you and North had another tiff the other night.”

Jack snorted. “You didn’t hear that,” he said. If one of Pitch’s people had been anywhere near North’s mound, there would have been war. “You just know he held party and assumed there was an argument.”

Pitch shrugged. “You can’t blame me for that,” he said. “It’s not exactly without precedent. Or has he suddenly become more accepting of your differences lately?”

Jack bristled, but tried his best to hide it. “I’ll have you know he was perfectly cordial.”

“Oh,” Pitch said, as if he’d just realised something. “So, he let you take something to eat before you left, rather than just throwing you out?”

Jack started to leave. It was bad enough that Pitch was here without him having to be right as well.

“Aw, sorry, Jackie,” Pitch said. Shadows flowed and suddenly Pitch was in front of him again. ‘Did I hurt your feelings?”

“You sound so sincere,” Jack said sarcastically.

“You know the offer’s always open, right? You and that Grimalkin seem to be getting along.”

“Really?” Jack asked. “Now you’re using me to get one of your pets back? That’s unappealing, even for you.”

Pitch shook his head. “Oh, you think so little of me. Actually, I was just hoping you’d finally gotten sick of being thrown out of North’s little soirées. The Grimalkin made its choice. Rules are rules, nothing I can do about that. Not until the human dies, at any rate.”

Jack tried to keep a straight face. Pitch really couldn’t have been watching too closely, if he wasn’t even aware that Hiccup wasn’t human.

Pitch looked over his nose at Jack, waiting for a response, then sighed. “And of course, there’s the matter of the village …”

Jack said nothing. Fairies attacking that village was unusual, but he wasn’t about to just go asking Pitch about it. That might be construed as asking a favour, and the last thing he’d ever do was owe Pitch a favour.

“Thought at first it might have been how you and that boy in the hut met,” Pitch said. “After all, you both seem to have your eyes on that little village.”

“And you aren’t keeping an eye on it, which is why you’re probing me for information,” Jack said.

“So many pies, so few fingers,” Pitch said, with a shrug. “But it seems that lost Grimalkin has caused a bit of a stir recently. Thought you might have gotten curious.”

“And also that I’d just tell you what I know for old times’ sake?” Jack asked, spreading his arms, and then resting his staff back on his shoulder. “You’ll have to be a bit more cunning than that, Pitch.”

“Careful what you wish for.” Pitch stood up a little straighter, and turned his body as if he was about to leave. “Good to see you as ever, Jackie,” he said. “I still hope that one day we can come to an understanding.”

“I think we already understand each other quite well,” Jack said.

“If you think that. Just so you know, you might want to look to the sky.”

“What?”

Pitch pointed upwards. “The sky. Big things brewing there. Just a … heads up.”

Jack ignored the pun. “We’re not friends,” he said.

“Yes, you keep saying.”

Pitch faded away into the shadows. Jack sighed. Every time Pitch turned up, it always seemed to ruin his day.


	13. Broody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I can't let them have any dignity. Why do you ask?

Hiccup watched as Jack touched down on the grass a little way away from the hut and strolled up to him.

“It’s been a few days,” he greeted Jack.

“Started to think I wasn’t coming back?”

“I considered it, but everyone’s always telling me how I’ll never be rid of you, so …”

“They got that right.” Jack sat down in front of Hiccup and rested his staff over his knees. “So. Care for another interruption?”

Hiccup looked down at his hands. He’d been working in the garden, and they were dirty enough that it was hard even to see the freckles on them.

“What did you have in mind? Back to see Rapunzel? We’ll need to be more cautious so that her … mother … doesn’t see Toothless this time.”

Jack shook his head. “Something different.”

Hiccup was sceptical. Jack was dodging around the topic. That meant Hiccup probably wasn’t going to like what he suggested. “Like …?”

“So … you said you go to the town sometimes to trade, but you haven’t been in a while?”

“No,” Hiccup said.

“Aw, come on! You haven’t even heard my suggestion yet!”

“I’m not going to the town,” Hiccup said.

“Come on, you said it’s been ages. They probably won’t even recognise you by now!”

Hiccup tried to pretend that hadn’t hurt. “No,” he said again. “I’m not going.”

“What, they kick you out or something?”

“What if they did?” Hiccup said.

“Just saying that never stopped me.”

“They don’t want me there, and I’m not going.”

Toothless flicked an ear and opened one eye lazily. Jack glanced over at him and then back at Hiccup.

Jack shrugged. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

Hiccup looked up from the basket of vegetables he was sorting through and looked up at Jack. Jack wasn’t meeting his eyes. Was that … disappointment?

Hiccup felt a stab of guilt, but shook it off. No. He’d do anything else. He’d jump off another tower. He’d risk getting caught by Rapunzel’s mother.

Anything except go back to Berk.

“Well, why don’t you give me a job to do, then?” Jack said brightly, looking up suddenly. All of the disappointment had been wiped from his face, and he looked bright and happy again.

“What?” Jack could change the topic so fast it made Hiccup’s head whirl.

“Aster’s out trading,” Jack explained. “Punzie’s nice, but her mother’s probably there today. I don’t have anything else to do, but you do, so why don’t I help you out?”

“What, help me with the gardening?” Hiccup gave him a pitying look. “Oh, Jack, you should have told me you were desperate!”

There was a slightly tense moment for Hiccup as he finished speaking, hoping he hadn’t gone too far, but Jack’s reaction was wholehearted laughter. “You’ve been talking to Aster, haven’t you?”

“Me? Talk to someone? Who isn’t Toothless? Perish the thought.”

Jack smirked. “So does that mean you’ve got something in the garden you need done?”

Hiccup shrugged. “Let me put these inside and I’ll see.”

He didn’t spend long inside, just long enough to drop off the basket in the bottom of his pantry and head back out, but by the time he’d finished, Jack had already moved over to Toothless. Hiccup watched him for a moment, holding his hand out for Toothless to sniff. The wayward Grimalkin was turning his head the other way and resting it on his paws, his haughty expression visible even though his eyes were closed.

Hiccup chuckled. “He’s being contrary, isn’t he?”

Jack sighed. “Does he do this to you, too?”

“Constantly. Don’t worry. You’d know if he actually disliked you.”

Jack stood up and used his staff to vault over to Hiccup. Hiccup had seen it before, but he was still surprised. Just jumping into the air like that made Jack look even wispier than he already did. Hiccup wasn’t sure how he wasn’t picked up and thrown away by every errant breeze.

He gestured, and they went together over to the shed. As they turned the corner, Jack wrinkled his nose. “What by all that is decent …?”

Hiccup had to think for a moment. “Hm? Oh! Paper.” He’d gotten used to the smell by now, though Toothless was still refusing to go over to the woods — the furthest from the hut that Hiccup had been willing to put the big bowls of wood shavings. The smell was still very present in parts of the clearing, though, further away from the rabbits and chickens, even though the bowls were covered against the rain.

“I could smell it a little from over there,” Jack said. “I didn’t realise it was your fault, though!”

“I have to break down the wood into pulp somehow,” Hiccup said. “If you have a more fragrant option, I’m all ears.”

Jack shook his head, muttering, “What makes you think I’ve ever had to make paper?”

“Right. How about collecting eggs?”

Jack shook his head. “Never done it.”

Hiccup nodded. “Well, it’s not exactly hard. Here.” He led Jack over to the willow chicken coop and the basket next to it.

Jack picked up the basket. “Eggs go in here, right?”

“Mm-hmm. Careful with your feet. Call me if you crack an egg or find one cracked or anything like that. They’ll lay anywhere, but most of them should be in the nesting box,” Hiccup gestured to the large wooden box in the corner of the coop. “Don’t be afraid to reach under a chicken to get the eggs. Most of them are fine with it, but use common sense.”

“Sounds … doable,” Jack said, examining the basket. “Hey, you’re really good at this!”

“Practice,” Hiccup said, trying to hide his embarrassment at the compliment. “I’ve, uh … had to make quite a few of them over the years.”

“Alright. Call you if I find cracked eggs, screw up, or if I’m done?”

“Sounds good.”

Jack unlatched the coop door and, stepping with exaggerated care around the curious chickens, started to go through the coop in his bare, blueish feet. Hiccup left him to it and went to go see how the herbs Toothless had ruined were doing, and whether any of them had survived transplanting.

They were doing just fine, and Hiccup was in the middle of deciding whether he should finally expand that rabbit hutch when the commotion started.

From the chicken coop, there was an almighty squawking and flapping, first from one bird then several. There was also a distinctly human shriek and a thump, then Jack, covered in feathers and straw, came scuttling on his butt and his hands out of the door of the nesting box.

Hiccup, who had dashed over to the coop as soon as he’d heard the commotion, had to lean on the wicker fence he was laughing so hard.

Jack looked up at him, frowning in what might have been quite a convincingly disgruntled manner, if it wasn’t for the feather resting directly on his nose.

He blew the feather off. “Don’t be afraid of the chickens, you said. Just reach under them you said.”

“I also said,” Hiccup said, finally able to speak through his mirth, wiping his eyes. “That you should use your common sense.”

Jack pulled straw out of his hair, along with feathers, grimacing. “And you thought I’d have common sense, why, exactly?”

Hiccup dissolved into laughter again. Jack folded his arms, but he couldn’t keep a straight face for long, either, and soon he was chuckling along. “Alright, fine. Had enough laughter at my expense?”

Hiccup took a deep, calming breath, and headed into the chicken coop with the disgruntled chickens. He helped Jack to his feet.

“Did you at least manage not to break the eggs?”

“I honestly don’t know. I dropped the basket.”

Hiccup headed into the nesting box where, sure enough, the basket was on the ground, eggs both broken and whole scattered around it. One of the chickens, in the back of the box, was all puffed up, making angry _brrrrrk_ noises.

“Oops,” Jack said, from the door to the nesting box, staying cautiously away from the chickens.

“This is her?” Hiccup asked, pointing to the broody hen.

Jack nodded.

Hiccup put the whole eggs back in the basket, and scooped up the straw from the floor where the eggs had cracked onto it, shooing away the curious hens who had gathered around.

Jack followed him out of the coop, opening and closing the door for him.

Hiccup brushed the eggy straw off the top of the basket into the compost heap, far far away from the house, and passed the basket back to Jack.

“These go on the kitchen bench so I can wash them,” he said. “While I get some more straw for the coop.”

“Sorry,” Jack said sheepishly.

Hiccup realised all of a sudden that he hadn’t actually said anything to reassure Jack after his mistake.

“Um, no problem,” he said. “It’s easily fixed. Besides, there were a lot of eggs today, so you don’t have to worry.”

He took the basket back and put it on the ground, before taking Jack’s hands and looking them over. “You didn’t get pecked badly, did you?” He could see a couple of dents in Jack’s hands, but no blood. He ran a thumb over one of them. No — that was definitely a hole in Jack’s hand. Whatever Jack was, he didn’t bleed, apparently. Interesting.

Jack made a face. “I’m, uh…”

Hiccup looked up. “Need something for that?”

Jack pulled his hand back quickly. “No, it’s fine. Not exactly human, remember?”

He glanced back at Hiccup, almost looking nervous, and Hiccup had to bend over to pick up the basket to hide his face.

“Plus, you needed the laugh, am I right?” Jack said, taking the basket from Hiccup.

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re entirely too serious,” Jack called over his shoulder as he headed off.

“Yeah, well, you laugh too much!” Hiccup called back, in absence of a more fitting comeback.

Jack’s response was only to laugh again.

Hiccup went and got more straw for the coop. When he returned, he handed him another basket. “Here.”

“I’m not going back in there,” Jack said immediately.

“No, you’re going to pick three of those cabbages for me,” Hiccup said, pointing.

“That sounds … I think I can do that.”

“Cabbages don’t get broody,” Hiccup said. “And they’re unlikely to peck.”


	14. Stakeout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I might actually get to some plot within the next year.

Jack skirted around the tower before going in. His hand still stung from Hiccup’s demon bird … but he had to admit that it had been just a little bit funny.

After he and Hiccup had gone to Punzie last time, he was inclined to be more cautious. If it was just him, he’d have sailed up to the window and damn the consequences. But it wasn’t him that would be in trouble, so until Rapunzel decided to let him take her away, better to be cautious.

Up in the top of the tower, he could hear voices. Sometimes that was a good thing — Punzie often sang to herself up there, or talked to Pascal. Jack sometimes sat and listened for a while before he went up to see her.

But sometimes … it was bad.

Footsteps across the floor. That voice was Punzie, cheerful as ever.

Jack edged a little closer to the bottom of the tower.

No, that voice wasn’t her. That was Gothel.

Jack stopped and waited down at the bottom of the tower, eyes closed so he could listen more intently. Down here, he would be obscured enough by the balcony above him that even if Gothel _somehow_ managed to hear him or sense his presence, she wouldn’t see him by just looking out the window. She’d actually have to come out and _look_ , and he’d be long gone by the time she made it that far.

Even concentrating as hard as he could, though, Jack couldn’t hear their conversation. It sounded light enough, though Punzie’s voice was always strained talking to Gothel. He could hear that, even from down here.

Ah, well. Maybe next time.

***

Gothel was still there a while later, and showed no signs that she had any intention of leaving that day. Jack waited just a little longer anyway. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be. Tooth … well, he didn’t just drop by to see Tooth — he had to have a reason. After all, she was a fairy. And fairies didn’t exactly welcome his presence unless he brought something.

Aster never wanted him there just for the company.

And Hiccup …

Well, Hiccup was busy. He probably didn’t need Jack getting in his way.

After The Chicken, and picking the cabbages, Hiccup had been concentrating on drawing up some sort of wooden extension to a rabbit hutch. He’d gotten so absorbed in sketches and plans that Jack hadn’t been able to coax any conversation out of him, and eventually he’d just felt bad for trying. He always seemed to be interrupting Hiccup in one way or another. Besides, from the cabbages, The Chicken, and barely knowing which end of a hammer to swing and which end to hold, Jack was one for three on the subject of household chores.

Jack leaned his head back against the side of Gothel’s tower, closing his eyes.

He’d go back another day, when he was feeling a bit more chipper, and up to his usual self. Up to taking Hiccup at his word, rather than paying attention to his tense shoulders, how he always seemed to want to be concentrating on anything except Jack.

Honestly, if Hiccup hadn’t gotten so antsy every time it was mentioned, Jack might have suspected that it wasn’t so much Hiccup being kicked out of the village as Hiccup deciding he was better off alone. He wished he could ask — the curiosity was burning him from the inside.

The air was growing cooler and cooler, and he opened an eye to find that it looked like it was starting to get to night-time.

That wasn’t right. It was only the middle of the day.

And then he looked up and saw the clouds encroaching. Half the sky was engulfed in them, and they were _dark_. Not just dark grey, like a bad storm. These were nearly black, and approaching _fast_.

Jack could feel the wind starting to pick up now, too.

Up above, he heard Punzie come out onto the balcony, now just close enough that he could hear what she was actually saying.

“Mother, maybe we should close up the windows,” Punzie said.

Gothel said something unintelligible but dismissive, until she got closer. Then Jack heard a pause and, “Hm. Or maybe you do have a point. Get the shutter bars.”

Jack looked up at the sky again. Maybe he should find some place to hole up and hide as well.


	15. The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretentious Cinematic Scene in 3 ... 2 ... 1 ...

The storm rolled in over several hours.

It should have been too late in the season for a really big storm, but Hiccup didn’t want to take chances with clouds that dark, so he packed everything away in preparation anyway. Thankfully, the rabbits were already stored in his house while he added sections on to the hutch, so it was just a matter of covering up the garden and getting the chickens inside. A much easier task than it might have been, with the help of a very intimidating scaly cat. No, Grimalkin — he had to get used to calling Toothless by his proper name. Toothless kept the rabbits cowering under the bed, and not trying to escape through the door.

Inactivity had never really suited Hiccup well. As he sat inside, waiting for the storm to start, he kept on going through the list of things that had to be done. The animals were inside, his walls were shored up as much as they could be. His windows were closed and shuttered, and the shutters barred, just in case. The garden was covered, and the canvasses tied down, and secured with dirt. He’d already double-checked that there were no free edges that could be pulled up by the wind. The box of wood pulp was shut tight, also tied and weighted down. Anything that might be ruined by the moisture — his sourdough starter, his stores of flour and dried herbs and similar things — were packed into the cupboard in oilcloth, where they would be safe even if the damp got in. The bees were a more difficult matter, though he hoped that covering the hives well would be enough. Bees were smart enough to stay inside, out of the rain … right? He’d never really had to find out before.

Once the shutters were closed, Hiccup had to light his lanterns. The hut was always dark inside when everything was shut up, but it was pitch black inside now. The storm clouds had just about turned day into night.

While the rabbits quivered under the bed, and the chickens nested in their little boxes along the wall next to the hearth and oven, Hiccup sat leaning against Toothless in his big, scaly form, using the light from the lantern next to him to write down lists in his notebook.

The first blast of wind rattled the shutters.

***

Jack never usually bothered getting out of the weather, but even he’d make an exception for those storm clouds. As they gathered overhead, he settled himself in the root system of a huge tree, under an overhang. He was nestled in the dirt, and it would get cramped after a while, but it was a good spot to sit. He’d ridden out storms in here before.

There was a flash, and a rumble. Jack’s hair started to ruffle in the breeze.

Then all of a sudden the rumble turned to an almighty _crack_ and a flash that turned the world black and white. Jack whistled, impressed. It was right on top of them. It looked like this would be a good one.

***

As the lightning cracked, Rapunzel looked up from her book. The window in her room was rattling. Somewhere down below, Mother Gothel was sitting and doing her embroidery, in her own room or in the main living area. Rapunzel was tempted to open the window just a crack and look out, but already the wind was buffeting the wood so hard she was afraid it might break. If she opened the window, she might never get it closed again, and she could only imagine the lecture she’d get from Mother for that.

Pascal croaked at her questioningly. She scratched him under the chin absently and tried to go back to her book.

Lightning cracked again, and this time the wind even managed to get in through the cracks in the window shutters and flutter her candle. She flinched as lightning turned the room stark white for a moment.

Perhaps she should light a few extra candles, just to be safe.

***

The chickens made concerned noises as the wind and rain made the little hut shake. The lantern light seemed pitiful all of a sudden. There were gaps in the wood that Hiccup had never known were there before, and the entire inside of the hut was coated with a film of cold water. Hiccup leaned back further into Toothless, who curled around him more. He’d put the notebook away in its oilcloth wrapping. There was nothing to do but listen and wait for the storm to blow over.

***

In a castle outside the forest, they didn’t need to worry so much about the storm. The castle was a huge, grand thing, the stone thick and the foundations deep. It was built to last, capable of containing the combined armies of four clans who had never gotten along, as well as the antics of three young Dunbroch boys who were often more destructive than the armies.

Princess Merida hated being cooped up — especially cooped up with her mother, whose idea of “keeping ourselves entertained while the storm blows over” was almost more boring than just sitting in the room and doing nothing.

“Maybe I should go check the horses, Mum,” Merida said. “Just in case.”

“They’re fine, dear,” Queen Elinor said, not looking up from her embroidery. “You’re not going outside in that.”

“It’s just rain.”

A great roll of thunder swept through the castle, so loud that even if her mother had responded, Merida wouldn’t have been able to hear her.

“And some noise and lights,” Merida added.

“No, dear.”

Merida heaved an aggrieved sigh. Her brothers, giggling, ran through the hall, pursued by her father.

“You’re never this worried about the weather,” Merida said. “It’s just a storm.”

“Well, we’re staying inside for this one,” Queen Elinor said darkly.

Merida tried another sigh, but when that didn’t seem to work, she resigned herself to the needle and thread again.

***

The clouds overhead were as black as ever, and the storm showed no signs of stopping. Jack’s tree roots were half full of water, he was soaked to the bone, and every lightning bolt that lanced across the sky seemed desperately close to the tree tops.

Somewhere, not really that far away, there was a cracking noise and then a crash. A tree somewhere had fallen.

The cold, fine. The wet, Jack could take. But the wind was tugging at him, insistent, in a way that Jack didn’t like. His clothes all clung to him, and his staff was so slick with rain it was hard to hold onto, the wind threatening to tug it from his hands. Jack had heard Aster, and sometimes even North, speak of ‘violent’ weather. But this was the first time that he’d truly experienced weather that suited the description.

As Jack stood up, out of the shelter of the tree, a gust of wind grabbed him and nearly blew him off his feet. He had to dig his staff into the ground to stop his feet from slipping out from under him.

That was wrong. The wind was Jack’s ally — for as long as he could remember, he’d been able to call on it. He barely ever walked! The wind was always happy to help. It certainly never knocked him down, or tried to snatch his staff from his hands, no matter how hard it blew.

Aster’s garden was all covered up and his door was securely bolted, but Jack hammered on it anyway.

At first he thought that Aster wasn’t going to notice his banging on the door, but after a minute or so, he heard the scrape of wood and Aster’s head poked out.

Another gust of wind nearly blew it shut again, and Jack grabbed for the door handle to steady himself.

“Better be a …” Aster grumbled, but stopped when he saw Jack. “Bloody hell. Well, get inside before the whole bloody storm comes through my door.”

Jack slipped around the door, feeling like the wind was pushing him through. It slammed shut, and Aster bolted it.

The house, made of solid stone and wood, was secure against the raging storm outside, the noises muffled.

Somewhere there was another crack of treefall.

“Getting water all over my bloody carpet,” Aster grumbled, kicking at the wet doormat. He looked up. “Frost, what the hell possessed you to try and stay out in that?”

The hearth was shut off with a wood panel, just like the rest of the house. There was no fire in the hearth, and only Aster’s night lantern to light up the room.

Jack shrugged. “Just a storm,” he mumbled. “Storms never worried me before.”

“Well, sit down and entertain yourself somehow,” Aster said, throwing a towel and blanket at Jack and stalking off into his own room. “Looks like you’re staying here till it’s over.”

As Aster left and when Jack went to grab one of the chairs to sit down at the table, he realised that he was shivering.


	16. What Damage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all thought I was done being cinematic, didn't you?

Sometime during the night, Hiccup had fallen asleep. Toothless was still awake, though his eyes were half-lidded and his breathing was deep and calm. Hiccup gave him a reassuring pat as he sat up and stretched.

Morning light was sneaking around the cracks in the shutters. Quite a lot of it, actually — it was probably more like mid-morning light by now.

He got up, and started to change clothes.

“Keep everyone inside, Toothless,” he said.

Time to see how much damage the storm had done.

***

Rapunzel woke in the morning to the smell of Mother Gothel making breakfast.

“Sorry, Mother!” she shouted, rushing down the stairs, still in her nightgown. “I didn’t mean to sleep too long! You should have woken me …” she trailed off.

Mother Gothel sighed, but it wasn’t the aggrieved sigh, like when she was really mad. “Oh, Rapunzel, we’ve talked about the mumbling. You must have stayed up too late reading. You know we always talk about that.”

“Sorry, Mother,” Rapunzel said, running her fingers nervously through a handful of her hair. “Can I … help?”

“No, you sit down, Rapunzel,” Mother Gothel said, stirring the pot. “I thought I’d give you a little treat.”

Rapunzel sat down at their little table. “A treat?” Usually she only got treats when they’d argued … what could this possibly be for?

“I have to go away for a little while.” Mother Gothel filled two bowls with porridge, and drizzled both of them liberally with honey. “Here you go, sweetheart. I know I don’t usually let you have so much honey, but today we’ll make an exception.”

Rapunzel instinctively straightened her shoulders and sucked in her stomach a little at the comment, but she _did_ like plenty of honey on her porridge …

“Thank you, Mother.”

There were even toasted hazelnuts in it!

“How long will you be gone for?” Rapunzel asked.

“Only four days,” Mother Gothel said, sitting down with her own porridge. “I promise I won’t be long. You’ll be alright here on your own, won’t you?”

Rapunzel nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

“Good.” Mother Gothel sighed. “You know how I hate to leave you …”

Rapunzel shrugged. “You have … something important to do, I guess.”

Mother Gothel smiled condescendingly at her. “I knew you’d understand.”

Once they’d finished eating, Rapunzel washed up the plates. She was nearly finished with the big porridge pot, Mother Gothel came back down from her bedroom with her basket and her travelling cloak on.

“I’m leaving now,” she said.

Rapunzel wiped her hands quickly and ran over to Mother Gothel, skipping over her hair as it was strewn all over the floor, wrapping her arms around her for a hug.

“I’ll see you when you get back,” Rapunzel said.

“I love you,” Mother Gothel said.

“I love you more,” Rapunzel said, as Mother Gothel kissed the top of her hair.

“I love you most,” Mother Gothel said, completing their little ritual

Then Rapunzel let her hair over the side of the window, down onto the still-damp grass below, so that Mother Gothel could climb down, before going back to the washing up.

***

Merida threw the ball up and caught it for the nine hundred and eighty-ninth time in a row — not quite her personal record, but very close. Finally, finally, it seemed like the rain was stopping. Light started to stream through the window, and she threw open the shutters to check what it looked like outside.

Yes, the rain was gone! The sun was up, the grass was wet, and she was going for a ride!

As she ran down the hallway and out to the stables, so fast her riding-booted feet barely touched the ground, she heard her mother heave a resigned sigh.

***

Jack woke up curled up on the floor in front of the hearth when Aster started nudging him gently with a foot.

“Frost. Hey, Frost!”

“Ngh.” Jack sat up, rubbing his eyes. He felt like some of North’s guests looked sometimes, the morning after one of his bigger parties. His head ached. How had that happened? Since when did Jack Frost get headaches?

“Breakfast?” Aster asked.

Jack shook his head. “No. Thanks.”

Aster squinted at him. “Are you sure? You look crook as a dog. Sure you didn’t catch something out there?”

Jack tried for a mocking grin, but only managed about half of it. “Since when have I ever gotten sick?” he asked, then stretched in what he hoped was a convincing fashion. “You’ve just never seen me right after waking up before.”

Aster shrugged. “I’m sure you know yourself well enough.”

Jack headed for the door. As he was about to leave, Aster said, “Oh, and Frost?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time, knock _before_ the storm starts, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Sure.”

***

Hiccup pulled the last of the coverings off the garden, and inspected the damage.

Nothing had blown off or away, thankfully, but the rain had apparently been so heavy that it had crushed some of the seedling plants, and a few of the lettuces. Hiccup sighed.

Well, looks like Toothless wasn’t the worst thing to happen to those herbs after all.

The chicken coop was intact, and the hutch was pretty much as he had left it, except wet. He replaced all the straw in the coop and swept out the hutch, and put the chickens back in their home with some food.

Just as he was starting to get the rabbit hutch back in order, he heard Toothless start to growl, and turned around.

There was a tall figure walking into his clearing — black hair slicked back and face like a hatchet, his skin even greyer than Hiccup’s. His feet disappeared somewhere under the hem of his long, black robe.

Hiccup put down the wet plank he was holding and looked up.

“Yes?” he asked suspiciously.

“Oh, please don’t mind me,” he said. “I’m just here to visit an … old friend.”

Hiccup gave him another look up and down, and narrowed his eyes. “You’re Pitch Black, aren’t you?”

Pitch Black clapped. “Oh, good! So they _did_ tell you something about me. Was it dear Jackie? Or one of his friends, perhaps?”

Hiccup shrugged. “Don’t recall,” he said. He had the distinct feeling that Jack wouldn’t appreciate being called ‘dear Jackie’ by Pitch.

“Well, doesn’t matter.” Pitch crouched and clicked his fingers towards the door of the hut, where Toothless was sitting at the doorway, head lowered and hackles raised. “Come here, boy,” he said coaxingly. “Come on. Don’t you want a scratch behind the ears?”

Toothless growled again, skin pulled tense and tight on his scaly head, and his tufted ears flat backwards. He walked slowly sideways, away from the door, over towards Hiccup and away from Pitch.

Pitch stood up, with just a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. “Well, then,” he said. “So the rumours are true, after all. You must have done something truly special.”

Hiccup shrugged. “Depends on your definition, I suppose.”

“You know,” Pitch said. “Anyone who can win a Grimalkin’s favour deserves a place of honour.”

“I don’t trust you,” Hiccup said. “So no offense, but no thanks.”

Pitch shrugged. “Well, the offer stands. For a while. But one day I’ll be coming back for that Grimalkin, and you may not like it when the deal changes.”

Hiccup reached down and rubbed Toothless’s head. “I’ll take my chances,” he said.

Pitch took one final look around the garden and walked away.


	17. A Morsel of Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that feeling when you go back to something you wrote literally over a year ago and realise that you put foreshadowing in that you didn’t intend, totally forgot was there, but looking back it’s actually kind of cool how it lined up?  
> Yeah, that.  
> Happy hunting.

Hiccup wished he had a way to contact Jack after the storm had passed, but then he’d never had to wait particularly long before seeing him, so he used the rabbit hutch as a way to distract himself and keep his hands occupied.

He was right. Jack arrived later that day. His face was cheerful as ever, but his cloak and his trousers still clung to his legs, only partially dry, and his hair was limp and dripping slightly onto his forehead. Hiccup frowned.

“Did you get caught in that storm?” he asked.

Jack shrugged, twirling his staff as he plopped himself down without even checking if the ground under him was dry first. “A little,” he said.

Hiccup was halfway through speaking before he had fully realised what he was saying. “You should have told me you didn’t have, uh … well, you could have sheltered here if you …” His sentence trailed off into an embarrassed mumble.

Jack shrugged. “Not exactly human, remember? It was fine, really.”

Hiccup thought about protesting, but he stopped himself. He didn’t exactly have a leg to stand on when it came to this argument. “Well, just keep it in mind,” he said.

“Right.”

“Hey,” Hiccup said suddenly, trying to get the words out before he had a chance to think better of it and take them back. “Are you sure you’re fine? You don’t … look so good.” It was true — Jack looked like he hadn’t slept well, or like he was fighting off the early stages of a cold. Whatever Jack was, did he get colds? Hiccup supposed it would seem a little unfair for someone with powers over ice and snow to get colds.

“You’re one to talk,” Jack said, with that stilted, forced grin that Hiccup was coming to recognise.

“Alright, sorry I asked,” Hiccup said, trying not to bristle about the reference to his complexion.

“I went to Aster,” Jack said. “So you can stop worrying that I was out in it all night.”

That wasn’t what Hiccup was worried about, but he knew a time to change the topic when he saw one. “I have something I need to ask you.”

“Sure.”

“What does Pitch Black look like?”

Jack froze for a second, just a second, then attempted to look nonchalant again. “Black hair, face like a starved horse? Monotone wardrobe?”

Hiccup looked away. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s him.”

Jack scratched at a spot on his staff. “Right. What did he want?”

“Toothless,” Hiccup said. “He wanted Toothless back.”

Jack frowned. “He can’t get Toothless back. You’re his master now. That’s how it works.”

“I know. He wanted me to join him so that he could use Toothless. Through me.”

Jack hesitated. “You turned him down, right?”

“Of course! What do you take me for?” Hiccup scratched Toothless behind the ears. “Look, I don’t know you very well, I guess, and you’re really the only person who’s talked to me about Pitch. But, well …” He shrugged. “Toothless was running from him once. He doesn’t like Pitch. And that’s enough for me.”

He looked up cautiously to see Jack’s reaction. Jack was looking down at his staff, but Hiccup could just see a somewhat sad smile on his lips. “Yeah,” he said. “Toothless is a good judge.”

“Besides,” Hiccup said thoughtfully. Now that he thought about it … “He didn’t really try very hard.”

“What do you mean?”

“He just asked if I’d join him. He didn’t offer me anything, and he didn’t really threaten me with anything. He just asked me, I said no, and then he asked again and said he’d be back, and that he might have …” he raised his hands to drop quotation marks in the air around the next phrase, “ ‘changed the deal’, and I ‘might not like it’. And then he left.”

“Huh,” Jack said. “Well, I can tell you he’s a big fan of just dropping something on you and leaving dramatically. It’s sort of his thing.”

“I mean,” Hiccup said, waving his hands as he tried to explain, “I get the feeling if he really wanted me to join him, he’d try harder to convince me. It felt like he was covering up for something else … or like he was pressed for time.”

“And the attacks …” Jack said. He frowned. “Something’s going on. I don’t like it.”

Hiccup looked down at the planks of wood that were going to become a rabbit hutch. He didn’t like it either. He especially didn’t like that he was probably about to get dragged into something involving Berk. He was being selfish, he knew, but if it came down to it … he didn’t know if he could do more than try and help from the shadows.

His fingers curled on Toothless’s head. No, he knew himself well enough not to lie. He’d feel terrible, but … he just wasn’t sure he could go back to Berk. Even to save them.

“We should talk to someone,” Jack said.

Hiccup looked up. “Who?” he asked, dreading the answer. This was it — Jack was about to ask him to go back, and …

Jack grinned, though one without his usual energy. “Friend of mine. Lives in a castle. Not Punzie — that’s a tower. Different things.”

So, not Berk. Hiccup took a moment, and then realised. “You mean … you’re friends with the Royal Family? The Dunbrochs?”

Jack nodded, grin a little wider now, and a little closer to his usual self.

“Right,” Hiccup said. “Let me … let me know if you … if they …”

“Actually,” Jack said, as if he hadn’t noticed Hiccup’s discomfort. “I was hoping you’d be the one to go talk to her.”

Hiccup hesitated. “Me? Why?”

“You’ll get along fine,” Jack assured him.

He wouldn’t, but that wasn’t the point. The Dunbrochs … might remember him. From before. “I don’t understand why _you_ aren’t going to ask her about it.”

“Well. She and I are alright, but …” Jack shrugged sheepishly. “Her parents and I aren’t exactly on the best of terms. And it’s her mother we need — Queen Elinor knows more about fairies than any human I know of.”

“You? Not get along with someone? Why does that not surprise me?”

“Come on, it’ll be fine! You’re clearly not a fairy, so she probably won’t have a problem with you.”

“Probably?” Hiccup gestured to his body. “Jack, I don’t exactly look _human_ either.”

“Come on, Hic, it’s nothing major – just walk up, ask a few questions, tell her you’re a friend of mine.”

“Not in that order,” Hiccup interjected.

“Whatever.” Jack waved a hand. “Whatever order works.”

“Are you just … trying to get me out to meet people?” Hiccup asked suddenly.

“I … no, I’m …”

“If you are, you don’t need to. I appreciate the thought, but I don’t — ”

“No!” Jack said, standing up suddenly, and looking directly at Hiccup again. “I mean, alright, yes, it’s a nice side effect, but that’s not the point here. I really do think they’ll listen to you more than they listen to me. It’s just … sorry. Forget it.”

Hiccup was silent for a moment, then said, “It’s just what?”

“I just … wanted an excuse to keep coming back to talk,” Jack said. He scratched the back of his head. “You’re always busy, and I’m not much help with gardening. I thought maybe if I could get you to help me out, then I’d have a reason to keep coming back here.” He glanced up at Hiccup, but couldn’t meet his eyes for long. “And Pitch clearly wants you involved, so I’m not just going to leave you in the dark, you know?”

“You really don’t have any other friends, do you?” Hiccup asked. At first it had been intended as a dig at himself, but when he saw Jack’s expression, he realised he’d hit closer to the mark than he’d expected. It made sense. Aster hadn’t exactly seemed like he was close with Jack. Even though Rapunzel was clearly fond of him, Jack had seemed reserved around her. He sighed and scratched his chin. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to pick at old wounds.”

Jack made a noncommittal noise. “It’s not really an old wound,” he said.

So it was still a new one, then.

There was a long silence, and then Hiccup took a deep breath, steeled himself and said, “I’m dead.”

“I’m sure you won’t upset them that much,” Jack said, then stopped. “Oh. You mean…”

“Going on five years now,” Hiccup said nodding. He poked at the greying skin on his hands, his black-grey freckles, the dark circles under his eyes. “It’s pretty obvious, right?”

Jack gave a low whistle. “Well … I didn’t guess it immediately, but when you put it that way … So, when you jumped out the window at Rapunzel’s …?”

“Figured things can’t really get any worse,” Hiccup said with a grin. “I walk off most things, these days.”

“Right. And I guess you used to live in Berk, then?”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “I’m pretty sure the village has gotten over me by now. I don’t want to see what would happen if I went back.”

“Oh. Right,” Jack said in a small voice.

“And I don’t particularly want to go meet the Royal Family because I mean … what do I even say to real, live humans now?”

“You’ll get used to it if you practice,” Jack said. “I … manage.”

“You’re a lot more persistent than me,” Hiccup pointed out, with a faint smile.

“That’s right, I am. And I’m being persistent about you going to see Merida.”

Hiccup wanted to keep arguing — there was still the chance of being recognised, after all — but he did want Jack to keep coming back. And this might be something he could do for Berk without ever having to get close.

Well, nothing good lasted forever “Got me coming and going, haven’t you? Alright, fine. I’ll go talk to her. Tell me what you need me to say.”


	18. The Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sort of wish I could say that I made Hiccup be dead specifically for this one scene, but the truth is this scene did come well after the character.  
> Either way, no Hiccups were harmed in the making of this chapter.

Hiccup sighed as he approached the castle through the woods. He put a hand on Toothless’s back. He shouldn’t be so nervous. After all, it wasn’t like the Royal Family had known him … before … or anything. His father was fairly important, so they’d visited once or twice, but that was a long time ago, and he hadn’t exactly tried to be conspicuous …

“Who’s there?” a strident, Scottish voice called.

Hiccup waved his hands around, in case she couldn’t see through the trees. “I’m a friend,” he said. “Not a fairy. I’ve come to talk to Merida Dunbroch.” He avoided using his name — fairies had to give their name when asked, and he needed all the help he could get convincing her.

“Speaking,” the voice said.

Well, that made things a little easier, Hiccup supposed.

“Listen, I’ve …”

“Not a step closer, or I’ll shoot,” Merida warned.

Hiccup could see her now, standing just outside the trees, arrow nocked and bow aimed. She was wearing a riding-kirtle, her boots poking out from underneath it. It was deep green, laced at the sides in plain leather, and her chemise had probably once been white but was stained with mud and grass, particularly at the bottom. The bow in her hands was both beautifully carved, and also incredibly intimidating. She was looking at Toothless.

He crouched a little, hands still up, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.

“Don’t come any closer,” Merida said. “I will shoot. We don’t take kindly to things from the woods trying to get in, here.”

Hiccup raised his hands a little more. Next to him, Toothless growled and crouched back, ready to strike.

Merida’s eyes widened. Oh, no.

“I’m just here to talk,” Hiccup said, trying to cut Merida off. “My name is – OOF!”

A few things happened in very quick succession. First, Toothless shifted his weight backwards, onto his hind legs. Then the arrow hit Hiccup directly in the chest. He wondered for a moment if she'd meant to hit him, or if she'd missed Toothless.

But then Toothless’s growl became a snarl and his muscles tensed, and Hiccup didn’t have time to concentrate on the arrow anymore.

“TOOTHLESS! NO!”

Toothless paused for just long enough for Hiccup to grab him around the shoulders, holding him back. Toothless growled and made to shake Hiccup off, but Hiccup held firm. If the Grimalkin had decided to jump anyway, Hiccup’s body weight would have been trivial to the big beast, but Hiccup felt more confident that Toothless would obey with the physical reminder as well as the verbal one.

“No, bud, it’s fine, I’m OK. We’re just going to talk to her. Alright?” He stressed the last word, more a warning than a query.

Toothless growled again, but he wasn’t actively straining against Hiccup anymore. Hiccup sighed, relieved. That could have gone very badly …

“Please don’t do that again,” Hiccup told Merida. “Holding him back really isn’t as easy as it looks.”

Merida looked up at Toothless. She’d somehow managed to draw and nock another arrow while rolling to the side, away from the Toothless’s path of attack. She was crouched on the ground now, looking between Toothless and Hiccup, bow taut, body leaning away to get the bow to full stretch, but legs planted firm. “Uh …” she said, and slowly lowered the bow. She was looking at Hiccup with a mixture of intense curiosity and mild horror. “You’ve still got an arrow in your…” she trailed off and just pointed.

“Oh, sorry,” Hiccup said, rolling his eyes. “Next time I’ll let Toothless pounce on you while I make a fuss about the arrow. You know, for your comfort.” He must have lost control of his senses, talking to the Princess Dunbroch like that … but she’d already shot him once, so he supposed that by most measures, this conversation couldn’t really get much worse.

“No! No, that’s … that’s grand,” Merida said, holding up her hands. “I’m much obliged, and I’m sure you’ve got your priorities right. I just meant most people would be a bit more, well …” Her eyes narrowed. “You know Jack, don’t you?”

“Not well,” Hiccup said sourly, rather wishing he knew Jack less well than he did. “He’s got a way of tricking other people into doing his dirty work.”

Then, recognition sparked in her eyes. “Wait. Aren’t you that boy from Berk?” she asked, leaning over to get a better view of his face.

Hiccup quickly tried to use restraining Toothless as an excuse to cover his face with half of an arm.

Before Merida could continue her questions, there was the sound of footsteps hurrying across the grass.

A woman that Hiccup could only describe as ‘regal’ was rushing towards, quickly, but somehow managing to remain dainty, skirts pulled up out of the way of her feet. She wore slippers, rather than boots, and her kirtle was fully adorned with brooches, necklace, embroidery and chain belt, unlike Merida’s, which was only belted with leather, and plain otherwise. The newcomer had a wool cloak wrapped around her, and pinned at the top of one shoulder, in contrast to Merida’s, which was pinned at both shoulders, and fell down her back. As she approached, he could see quite clearly that she and Merida were related. Something about the shape of their faces, and about their eyes.

“Merida!” the woman called. “What is all this kerfu … oh, a guest.” She dropped her skirts and tucked a wayward hair back into her circled. “Pleased to — oh dear.”

She had spotted the arrow, then.

“Merida!” the older woman scolded.

Hiccup had to admire her composure, really.

“Mum, I can explain.”

“Merida, you _shot him_!”

“No, don’t worry about it. It was an understandable decision,” Hiccup said, feeling the situation rapidly unravelling around him.

“Apologise!” the older woman instructed. “This instant.”

“It’s alright! She already did,” Hiccup lied quickly. It seemed the fastest way to end the conversation. “In fact, I was just leaving.”

“Leaving?” Merida asked.

“Right. I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about, and besides, I think I’ve made enough trouble for you,” Hiccup said, using one hand to drag Toothless back with him. Toothless rumbled deep in his chest, not a growl, but certainly a discontented noise, and moved backwards without taking his eyes off Merida or the woman who was almost certainly Queen Elinor.

“Are you sure you don’t want someone to help with …” Queen Elinor gestured to the arrow. Neither of the Dunbrochs seemed to know how exactly to refer to the wound.

“No, no, that’s perfectly alright,” Hiccup said, waving his free hand and retreating back into the trees. “Pleasure to meet you. Have a great day.”

***

Hiccup leaned back against the bench of his hut.

“Jack, you can stop laughing any minute now.”

Jack was nearly doubled over, tears streaming down his face.

Hiccup threw his hands in the air. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

“You … you still … the arrow …” Jack gasped, pointing vaguely.

Hiccup sighed, and tugged the thing out. A trickle of dark, viscous blood oozed out of the hole in his chest, and he grabbed a nearby rag to wipe it away. He’d have to remember to mend this shirt.

“I didn’t ask her,” he said.

“What?” Jack asked, recovering enough to stand and wipe his eyes.

“I didn’t ask her the question,” Hiccup said.

“Why not?”

“She _shot me_. And then her mother showed up and it was…” he waved his hands vaguely in the air in front of him. “Awkward.”

Jack’s face crumpled and he started to laugh again.

Hiccup dropped the arrow on the counter, and went to the bench to start working on his new bee hive. His throat felt tight. He already knew he’d messed up – did Jack have to be so damned … obvious about it?

Jack’s laughter stopped after a moment, but he didn’t say anything. Hiccup pretended that he was only concentrating on the lattice he was weaving.

“Let’s go back later,” Jack suggested. “Tomorrow maybe.”

“Jack …” Hiccup rubbed his face.

“It’s fine!” Jack said, using one hand and his stick to jump up and sit on Hiccup’s bench. He waved a thin shaft of wood at him. “You’re not going to let a tiny thing like this stop you, are you?”

Hiccup snatched the arrow off him and put it to one side. “Whatever. Tomorrow,” he said. “But you’re coming with me this time.”

“Fine. We’ll catch Merida on her morning ride.”

Hiccup wondered why Jack hadn’t just done that in the first place. He sighed. He’d probably never know, with Jack.

He decided to take the arrow with him. Might as well — he had no use for it here.


	19. Take Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's just assume that everyone here doesn't like Jack.
> 
> Also, I hope everyone read this is safe and doing OK. I'm going to try and put chapters out every couple of days instead of twice a week. It's not much, but at least I can try and give people something to escape to if they need it.

Jack spent the night nearby the little hut in the clearing. Through the walls, he could hear Hiccup shifting around for the whole night, and the occasional disgruntled noises Toothless made. Must have been a restless sleep.

Jack felt a little bad for sending Hiccup to the castle on his own the day before. What he’d said wasn’t a lie — the Dunbrochs didn’t particularly like him, except for the three boys. Merida seemed to take his presence with good grace, and found him occasionally amusing, but her mother was all ice when Jack was around, and Jack knew his ice. Her father, Fergus … well, he wasn’t as good at hiding his feelings as Elinor, and Jack pretty clearly worried him deeply. Probably thought Jack was a fairy. So he’d sent Hiccup, because he figured Merida would have gone to her mother about the storm. Elinor knew a lot of the old stories. He’d figured she’d have told Hiccup what she knew, since he was polite and Elinor was that kind of person … provided Hiccup didn’t have the Known Miscreant Jack Frost with him.

And Jack would be lying if he said it wasn’t also about that headache after the storm. Jack Frost didn’t get headaches. That had … rattled him. But it was gone now, and that meant he’d take Hiccup to see Merida while she was on her morning ride. He wouldn’t have to remind Elinor that he existed, Hiccup and Merida would have a chance to talk things through — Jack was sure they’d get on once that little mistake had been cleared up — and they’d get their answers. Win-win-win.

He floated on down from the tree when he saw Hiccup emerge from the hut and start about his daily chores, and waved with his staff. “Morning. Here as promised, ready to accompany you to the temperamental Princess.”

Hiccup groaned and rubbed his face, before turning to Jack. “Morning,” he said, without enthusiasm.

Jack tried to make a joke of it. “You’re not going to back out on me, are you?”

Hiccup shook his head. “No. Just thought you might give me a little more time to prepare, is all.” He gave a spirited attempt at a grin. “Guess I should have figured that wasn’t like you.”

“Not at all,” Jack said. It was obvious Hiccup was only joking to hide his nerves, so the least Jack could do was pretend he hadn’t noticed. “You know, I think you and I are going to get along quite well.”

“Yeah? You’ve decided not to make me go and talk to new people anymore?”

Jack snorted. “No promises. I meant that I make a lot of jokes at my own expense, and you like making jokes at other people’s expenses. See? Works perfectly!”

Hiccup managed around seventy-five percent of an honest smile that time. “Well,” he said. “Not really. You haven’t seen me when I’m in a proper snit at myself. That’s when it really gets vicious.”

“Ouch,” Jack said. “So, are we going? Get it over with?”

Hiccup’s eyes narrowed. Jack wondered if he’d been too pushy.

Hiccup said, “This really has you worried, doesn’t it?”

Damn. He’d noticed. Jack brushed his hair back, and looked away. He didn’t mean to look over at Toothless, but that’s where his eyes landed. “It’s Pitch,” he said. “If you knew him, you’d be worried, too.”

“Clearly,” Hiccup said, but Jack could hear the reservation in his voice. He turned around. “Let’s just go. Best to catch the Princess while she’s on her morning ride.”

***

“Wait,” Hiccup said as they got close to the castle, just after they’d heard the first twang of an arrow and the clop of hooves. “You said ‘morning ride’, didn’t you?”

“Yep,” Jack said. “Morning ride. I swear, Merida’s out to get revenge on the birds for waking the rest of us up every day.”

“Yesterday I got shot. I’m not sure I want to surprise her while she’s on a horse as well.”

Jack turned around, walking backwards and stepping over roots. “You’ll be fine. I’m sure she won’t shoot you _twice_.”

Hiccup folded his arms and gave Jack a very pointed look.

Jack put his hands and his staff behind his head and grinned. “I still can’t believe you brought that with you.” He nodded to the arrow Hiccup was carrying in one hand.

“It’s still a perfectly good arrow,” Hiccup muttered.

“She’ll definitely be glad you didn’t injure her precious arrow with your ribcage,” Jack said.

Hiccup rolled his eyes.

Whoops. That was the hoofbeats getting closer. Jack turned back towards the noise — he might not have been human, but he still wasn’t planning to get hit by a horse. Particularly a Dunbroch horse. Those things were solid, even by horse standards.

He used his staff and a little boost from the wind — making Hiccup shield his face — to swing up into a tree at head height. In a tree nearby, a spring-loaded target dropped.

“Hey!” he called at the figure on the horse. An arrow loosed and _thwunk_ ed into the centre of the target, and Merida shouted back, “I knew this was you, Frost! You’re worse than me brothers!”

Merida pulled Angus up near Jack, looking up into the tree. Underneath Jack, the bush rustled as Hiccup retreated into it, his arm around Toothless.

“Brought a friend,” Jack said, pointing down.

Merida looked, and there was another rustle as Hiccup recoiled.

“Um,” The bushes said. “Hi.”

“Mornin’.”

Jack could almost hear Hiccup starting to panic. He changed the subject quickly, as Hiccup and Toothless slowly stood up, Hiccup’s hand buried in the fur on the back of Toothless’s shoulders. “More to the point. Cool cat, am I right?”

“Toothless …” Hiccup warned, as the Grimalkin made a rumbling noise.

Merida got down off Angus and tied the reins to a tree branch, giving the horse a comforting rub on the neck. She knelt down and approached Toothless with a hand out, cautiously.

“Be nice,” Hiccup said.

Toothless gave Hiccup a Look out of the side of his eye, and with exaggerated caution, sniffed Merida’s hand.

“Good kitty,” Merida said.

Jack swung his legs over the branch, into a more comfortable position, and stifled a laugh. Hiccup was glaring warningly at Toothless, who had paused in his sniffing.

He licked Merida’s hand.

“Yeugh!” Merida pulled her hand back quickly, and wiped it on her dress.

“Toothless,” Hiccup groaned.

Merida shrugged. “Not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Sorry about shooting you, by the way.”

“Uh,” Hiccup said, producing the arrow and holding it out, head turned so he wasn’t looking directly at Merida. Jack could just imagine the shade of slightly-more-grey the poor guy was turning.

There was silence.

“Since it wasn’t, you know … broken or anything,” Hiccup said.

Merida put a hand to her mouth, but wasn’t quite able to stop the laugh escaping between her fingers. Soon, she gave up and just dissolved into cackles, bent over, wiping her eyes and snorting.

Hiccup looked up at Jack, with an ‘are you just going to let this happen?’ expression.

Jack was having a hard time not bursting out laughing himself, only kept in check by the thought that he might actually offend Hiccup. He pressed his hand hard into his face to get his laughter under control.

Merida finally regained herself enough to reach out and take the arrow.

“Thank you,” she said, putting it back into her quiver, then started giggling again. “Aye, and you looked fairly soft when I shot you yesterday.”

“Har har,” Hiccup muttered.

“Mum said you might be a fairy,” Merida said. “I think you might have given her a bit of a turn with your pet, and the arrow thing. Apparently I’m ‘not to offend you like that’ and ‘to be more careful in future’.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “I get that a lot. Not the last bit, just the … bit of a turn bit.”

“Speaking of,” Jack said, changing the conversation again before Merida asked too many questions. “We do actually have a purpose for being here.” He hooked his staff around the branch and swung down onto the ground.

Merida frowned. “Speaking of fairies, speaking of ‘a bit of a turn’, or speaking of my mum?”

Jack laughed. “Of fairies. I don’t dare to speak of your mother. Especially not so soon after last time she caught me in the castle.”

Merida folded her arms. “Hasn’t stopped you coming round and riling up the boys.”

“How did you — I mean, what makes you say that?”

“Don’t act innocent,” Merida said. “Whenever you’re there they’re twice as mischievous but twice as quiet.”

Jack snickered. “That’s a life lesson as far as those three are concerned.”

“Mum and Dad doesn’t seem to think it’s a good thing. Nor do the cooks.”

“Details.” Jack leaned back against the tree. “Quite a storm the other night, huh?”

Merida rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. I’ve never been so bored in all my life.”

“Probably for the best. Jack got caught out in it and he was still dripping when he came to see me this morning,” Hiccup piped up.

“Aw! You do speak in full sentences!” Jack said. “Hiccup, I’m so proud! But I reject your joke on principle.”

Hiccup snorted.

“I’m believing him,” Merida said, jabbing a thumb at Hiccup.

“What? Am I not trustworthy?”

“Not at all. But I shot him with an arrow, and he returned it to me. That’s the most innocent thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Topic?” Hiccup suggested. “We left one behind a while back?”

“Right,” Jack said. “You didn’t happen to notice anything weird about the storm, did you?”

Merida raised an eyebrow. “Weird? No. But Mum was acting a bit strange …”

“Did ask her about it?” Jack prompted.

“Sure. But why do you want to know? Did _you_ see anything weird about it?”

Jack shrugged. “Sort of. It’s … fairy stuff. But Hiccup got a visit from Pitch Black.”

Merida’s eyes shot over to Hiccup. “Really?”

“It’s complicated,” Jack said. “He seems to have taken poorly to Hiccup owning one of his pets.” He nodded to Toothless. “But don’t worry, Hiccup’s trustworthy.”

“I figured,” Merida said. “I’ll ask. I thought Mum might know something she wasn’t letting on …”

There was the sound of a horn and more horses in the distance. Merida looked in the direction of the noise, then said, “Dad’s hunting party.”

“We’ll be on our way,” Jack said quickly.

Hiccup looked between them. “Is that it? I thought …”

“For now,” Jack said moving to turn him around and usher him away from the castle. “I’m not exactly Queen Elinor of Dunbroch’s favourite person, and her husband doesn’t much like me either.”

Hiccup snorted. “Why am I sensing a pattern with you?”

“You’re just suspicious. Now let’s go and let Merida get back to her morning ride, alright?”

“Wait,” Merida said. “Come for dinner. Hiccup, not you, Frost. Tomorrow. No — the day after.”

“Dinner?” Hiccup asked, in the same tone of voice that someone else might ask, “Bears?”

Jack nudged him. “Look at you, moving up in the world!” If Jack was joking, maybe Merida wouldn’t make any comments about Hiccup’s nerves.

“I’ll talk to Mum,” Merida said. “And we can talk about the storm then.”

“Got it,” Jack said. “Hiccup, let’s go before that hunting party gets there.”

Jack could feel Merida’s eyes on him. She suspected something, or had noticed that Hiccup was, frankly, terrified, but that was fine. Jack would talk to him, and Hiccup would have two days to get used to the idea, and then it would be fine.

They said quick goodbyes and Hiccup allowed himself to be ushered off into the trees.

“See? Nothing to worry about,” Jack said, patting him on the back.

“Sure,” Hiccup grumbled. “Nothing to worry about.” On the other side of Hiccup, Jack could see his fingers restlessly working over Toothless’s scaly head and tufted ears. Toothless and Jack shared a sideways glance.

Jack patted Hiccup on the back. “What say we stop by Punzie on the way home? Promise she won’t try and shoot you.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “Sure.”


	20. Checking In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we have my Patented Trick of giving some details, advancing the plot, and then backing right off again. Hope you like character interactions.

Jack left Hiccup at the edge of the forest, as he scooted up the side of the tower to see if Mother Gothel was there. No talking — that usually meant she wasn’t at home. Sometimes Rapunzel was off reading, but then Mother Gothel usually hummed to herself while she worked, and Jack couldn’t hear that, either.

But no — at the top of the tower, the room was empty. He knocked on the side of the window. “Punzie? Hey, Punzie?”

The footsteps came pattering almost immediately down the stairs.

“Jack! You’re back soon!”

Jack chuckled. “Good to see you, too, Punzie. I came by the other day, but you weren’t alone, so I couldn’t drop in.”

Rapunzel looked around as though Mother Gothel might hear.

“Listen, Hiccup’s waiting down there, and Toothless will stay in the bushes this time. Do you mind if you help him up? He might jump out of buildings, but he has a little more trouble getting _up_ them.”

Rapunzel leaned over the side of the tower, looking down, and Jack stood up on the balcony edge, out of her way. Pascal looked up at him from the bush on the side of the balcony, so he made an — only slightly sarcastic — enthusiastic smile and waved.

Pascal glared at him. As usual.

Rapunzel had already thrown her hair over the hook and down the side of the tower, and Jack leaned over to watch Hiccup climb.

“Need a hand with that?” he asked.

Rapunzel, braced against the balcony, shook her head. “It’s fine. He’s pretty light, for his size.”

Hiccup finally pulled himself up and into the room. He glanced back, towards the bushes surrounding the tower.

“Is everything alright?” Rapunzel asked.

“Just checking that Toothless is staying where I told him to,” Hiccup said, a little absently.

“He will,” Jack assured him. “You told him to stay there, right? He won’t disobey. He can’t.”

Hiccup shrugged. “He can be awfully contrary for someone who can’t disobey,” he muttered. “How have you been, Rapunzel?”

“Well … not too bad,” Rapunzel said, gathering up her hair again. “Same as it always is up here.”

Hiccup shrugged. “I guess I know that feeling. Did the storm…?”

“The tower has stood for a couple thousand years,” Jack said offhandedly. “There’s no way a storm made a dent.”

Pascal made a dismissive little _grrrk_ noise at him, and climbed up onto Rapunzel’s shoulder, to nudge her cheek.

Rapunzel shrugged, and put a hand up to pat Pascal on the head. “It rattled the windows a bit. Apart from that, really, I just read my books until it was over. Mother left in the morning, though.”

Jack frowned. “Did she say why?”

Rapunzel looked at him in surprise. Hiccup leaned on the wall near the window, and pretended to be occupied with something outside. Pascal was looking back and forth between Hiccup and Jack like he couldn’t decide which of them to give the death glare to.

“Everything alright?” Rapunzel asked.

“Jack’s had a bit of a bee in his bonnet about all this after the storm,” Hiccup said, trying to pass it off casually, but his shoulders were too stiff to shrug properly, and he couldn’t quite meet Rapunzel’s eyes.

Jack decided to try again for him. “Hey, just because you had the nice comfy hut and I got stuck out in it,” he said.

“I had my share of troubles,” Hiccup said, apparently leaping at the opportunity Jack had given him. “Ever shared a hut with twelve nervous chickens and rabbits for a whole night?”

Rapunzel gasped. “You have rabbits?”

Hiccup stared at her for a moment. “Um. Well, it’s not like I can herd sheep by myself…”

Jack grinned. “If you ask nicely he might bring one for you to pat.”

Rapunzel slapped his shoulder. “Jack!” She gathered herself. “No. Mother didn’t say why she was leaving, but … there was something she was worried about, and she said she’d be gone for a while. I didn’t ask.”

Jack nodded. He glanced up at Hiccup. Jokes aside … he didn’t like this. “That makes four,” he said.

“Four?” Rapunzel asked. “Four what?

Jack ticked them off on his fingers. “Four people who think something was strange about that storm. Me, obviously the most observant, handsome, and of course, modest of us -”

Rapunzel slapped him again, and Hiccup rolled his eyes, but he soldiered on through such negative opinions. “Pitch turned up awfully conveniently, in need of a Grimalkin all of a sudden.”

Rapunzel glanced at Hiccup. “What does that mean?” she asked.

“It’s a bit complicated to explain it all,” Jack said, cutting Hiccup off before he could say anything. “But someone bad wants Toothless.”

Rapunzel gave him a glare, the one she usually gave him when he was holding information from her. He soldiered on through that as well — he’d gotten that expression and he’d have it again. He didn’t have the stomach to explain everything to her yet. Not when she was still safe up here … when she finally wanted him to free her, he’d explain everything, but until then, there was no need. Mother Gothel, as much as Jack despised her — wouldn’t let whatever was coming take Rapunzel away from her, so she’d be safe … for a given measure of safe. And while that was true, she didn’t need Jack worrying her about things that wouldn’t hurt her.

Pascal was giving him a very dirty look, too, but he was even more used to that one than Punzie’s.

“Third,” he continued, before Rapunzel or Hiccup could ask more questions. “Queen Elinor thinks there’s something fishy going on. And fourth, Mother Gothel is acting strangely.” Jack looked at the other two.

“That’s a little too many for coincidence,” Hiccup muttered.

There was a long silence.

Jack looked away. “I don’t like it,” he said. That wasn’t exactly what he meant — he didn’t like what was going on, certainly. But most of all, he didn’t like the feeling that it was going to deeply involve them. Rapunzel, who didn’t deserve to live in the same tower as trouble like that, and Hiccup … just when they were starting to become real friends …

“I’ll make tea,” Rapunzel said, and walked over to the kitchen. From the shelf, Pascal glared at the two guests.

Hiccup and Jack exchanged a glance. Jack sighed and tried to grin at Hiccup. “I’ve upset her now,” he said. “She makes tea when she’s nervous.”

Hiccup walked over and very gingerly put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “We’re all nervous,” he said.

“Yes,” Jack said. To change the subject, he nudged Hiccup’s side with his elbow and said, “We’d better go get that tea. Oh, and remember: You have to tell me when you’re going to jump out the window before you do it this time. Got it?”

Hiccup rolled his eyes, and followed Jack towards the tower’s kitchen.

He had been right — all of them _were_ nervous. But Jack didn’t quite know how to explain to Rapunzel that she was the only one of them who didn’t have to be.


	21. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel unclean every time I write Mother Gothel

It was several days before Mother Gothel returned to the tower, just as she said it would be. Rapunzel wished that Jack had made it back to visit her at least once more first, but Jack probably had other things to do.

She’d guessed a while ago that Jack didn’t have that many friends apart from her. Not real friends, anyway. Except now there was Hiccup, and she couldn’t help worrying that Jack might be more interested in seeing Hiccup than her. After all, what was there to do in the tower? Jack was a restless type, and he must get bored easily coming to talk to her …

“Rapunzel! Let down your haa-air!”

“Coming, Mother!” Rapunzel looped her hair over the hook above the window and started to pull her mother up the tower and onto the top of the balcony.

“Well! You were much quicker than that last time!” her mother said, as she reached the top. “I was starting to get worried, you know!”

“I was in my room …”

“Don’t mumble, Rapunzel! You know how it irritates me.”

Rapunzel tried to speak more clearly. “Sorry, Mother,” she said.

“It’s just a reminder, dear, I’m not angry. I brought ingredients with me! I’m making baked parsnips!”

She laid herbs out on the table from her basket. “Sage!” Rapunzel said. “Thank you, Mother!”

Mother Gothel grabbed Rapunzel’s chin and wiggled it. “Anything for my sweet girl,” she said. “I thought you’d be pleased.”

Rapunzel set about finishing off her chores while Mother Gothel cooked dinner. As she was tipping the dust from the floor over the balcony and onto the grass below, Jack suddenly floated into her mind. He’d said something about them all acting strangely.

Pascal on her shoulder, hiding under her hair, but his little body pressed against her for courage, she made her way to the kitchen.

She crept over to her mother, fiddling with her fingers as she raised her voice a little to ask — better not be accused of mumbling — “Mother …? Can I talk to you about something?”

Mother Gothel looked over her shoulder. “What is it, dear?”

“I … about that storm the other night …”

“What about it?” Her voice was still curious and gentle. Rapunzel got a little bolder, once she was sure mentioning it wouldn’t immediately set her mother off.

“I was just wondering. You seemed a little … stressed … the morning after, and you left so suddenly. I was just thinking … was there something … wrong?”

Mother Gothel stopped chopping, dumped the parsnips into a baking tray and turned around, hand with the knife braced on her hip and the other resting on her chest as she laughed. “Wrong? Why, Ra _pun_ zel! Wrong like what?”

Rapunzel stopped. “Well, I don’t really know. I just … it was a really big storm, and I thought…”

Mother Gothel laughed again. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone had been putting wild ideas into your head!”

Rapunzel felt her heart leap in her chest as she thought of Jack and Hiccup, but tried to keep her face steady. She couldn’t betray them!

Thankfully, Mother Gothel didn’t seem to be paying that much attention. She went back to the chopping board and started on the sage. “You don’t have to worry about that, Rapunzel. It was just a storm.”

“At this time of year?” This was important! She had to at least get something! She knew Jack was right about this … didn’t she? “That’s very strange.”

With an aggrieved sigh, Mother Gothel set both her knife and her hands down on the bench, abandoning the sage. “Rapunzel. I have had a _very_ long trip, and you are being _very persistent_ about this. Is there a reason you think something is wrong, or are you just going to keep harping on?”

Rapunzel shied away. “Sorry, Mother. I guess … I guess I just got scared.”

She waited for a moment, holding her breath, until she heard Mother Gothel sigh again. Not an angry sound, though, which made her shoulders relax a little. “Come here, Rapunzel.”

Rapunzel hurried over to her and was wrapped in Mother Gothel’s arms.

“Stop thinking about the storm,” Mother Gothel said. “You don’t have to worry about it. You just stay up here in the tower, and you’ll be perfectly safe from everything, remember?”

_That makes four_ , Jack had said. Four people who knew that something was wrong.

“Yes, Mother.”

Mother Gothel gave her a quick squeeze. “I love you, Rapunzel.”

This time, Rapunzel hesitated just the tiniest bit before responding, “I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

Mother Gothel kissed the top of Rapunzel’s head, and then the argument, as always, was over.

***

Hiccup had finally, finally managed to get his herbs to start sprouting again, despite the best efforts of both Toothless and the storm. He gave Toothless a scratch behind the ears and started back to the hut for the night.

Then Toothless’s ears perked up and Hiccup automatically followed where his head turned towards the forest. Toothless started to creep a little closer. Instinctively, Hiccup pressed his hand down on his head to hold Toothless back, but the ca — Grimalkin started to whine, and looked up at him.

He knew that look. Toothless wanted him to go somewhere, or do something.

He sighed. “Better know what you’re doing, Bud,” he said quietly, and knelt down so he could hide half behind the huge cat as he was led into the forest.

Toothless shifted sideways to hide him a little more. They didn’t need to go far into the forest before Hiccup saw what Toothless had heard.

Three figures moving through the gloom. One of them was making more noise than the others, stomping, on legs that moved awkwardly, knees backwards, like a bird trying to walk on land.

One seemed human enough, just from movement and silhouette. The third seemed to glide rather than walk, and was head and shoulders taller than the other two.

They were talking about something — whether it was in another language, or just in hushed tones, Hiccup couldn’t work out what they were saying. But just like when you hear your name across a crowded dining hall, he heard a name float to him across the leaves.

Pitch.

Pitch Black.


	22. Prepared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have fun~

Suddenly, Hiccup realised that he had a lot more to do than he had anticipated. He’d been planning to take the rest of the afternoon off, but it looked like that wasn’t about to happen.

For the first time in many, many years, even with Toothless by his side, he was nervous to walk out into the forest to collect wood.

But he did, one hand always resting on Toothless’s head. How much would he need? He should have brought his notebook …

He needed to repair the door. Shore up some of the more rickety places in the rabbit hutch. The shutters had taken a bit of damage in the storm, and he’d have to either fix or replace them. There were a couple of walls that, now that he thought about it, would need some work done before he’d trust them against anything more determined than a light of rain.

But how much wood did he need for all that? How much …?

He rubbed his face with the back of his hand. His mind was all over the place. Maybe he should leave this until …

No, this had to be done soon, or it might not get done in time. He’d feel better once it was finished — he just had to think of it all as steps on his checklist.

He recited calculations to himself the whole time he was chopping, trying to keep his mind off things.

***

“Uh. Something going on that I don’t know about?”

Hiccup looked up from the hammering, nails still sticking out of his mouth.

Oh.

Oh, no.

He looked down.

It was still humid after the storm, and so, while it wasn’t warm — and he didn’t sweat — he could feel his shirt starting to stick to his skin as he worked from the damp air. Then he must have lost track of time working and Jack was there to come and get him … and he was working on the house in rolled-up trousers, shoes, and nothing else. The only thing he was wearing on the top half of his body was his mother’s necklace. Jack already knew he was dead, but still … he hadn’t been ready for it to be _on display_.

He dropped his hammer, retaining just enough presence of mind to pull his foot out of the way as it fell. He cursed, bending to pick it up and to scramble about on the ground. His shirt … where had he dropped his shirt?

Jack turned around quickly, covering his eyes for good measure. “I swear I didn’t … well, OK, I kinda saw everything. But you can take your time with the shirt. I won’t look, promise.”

Hiccup finally found the crumpled pile of cloth and picked it up. He looked at it for a moment … after all, Jack had seen him. What did it really matter now?

But he couldn’t bring himself to say anything to make Jack turn around without it, so he pulled the shirt on.

As a small concession to trying new things, he didn’t bother doing the buttons up all the way to the neck, and he left his pants rolled up, too. Just like men from Berk used to do, when they had a long day of hard work.

“It’s … it’s fine,” he said.

Jack turned around, hands still covering his eyes. “Are you sure? You don’t sound sure.”

Hiccup shrugged. “Doesn’t make a difference now, does it?” he mumbled

“That’s not a yes,” Jack said.

“Yes, it’s fine,” Hiccup said, aware he sounded a little short. “Sorry. That probably didn’t sound very convincing. You can take your hands away.”

Jack did, and leaned on his staff. “I think a while back I promised that I’d be less surprising.”

“I didn’t believe you,” Hiccup said. “So it’s alright.”

Jack chuckled. “Guess you got to know me pretty quickly, huh? So, what’s with all this?”

“What, the small home repairs?” Hiccup asked, picking up the nails and hammer. “Just … making sure.”

Jack looked them over. “Guess the storm rattled you, too, huh?”

“There were a group of three … I guess they were probably fairies, making their way near here,” Hiccup said. “I heard them talking about Pitch, but nothing else.”

“Yeah, I’d be building extra walls, too.”

Hiccup chuckled. “With those arms? I doubt it.” Anything to stop them talking about Pitch.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jack said, pushing up a sleeve to examine his pale, thin arms. “I’d probably just call you.”

“Good plan,” Hiccup said. “I’m good at walls.”

Jack chuckled. “Good! I hear Castle Dunbroch has a lot of them!”

And that was the other topic he didn’t want to talk about. “Queen Elinor agreed?” Hiccup asked. “I thought she was worried I was a fairy. You don’t generally invite those in.”

“Yeah, but they don’t generally return the arrows they’re shot with, either, so you made a pretty good case for yourself.”

“Merida sounded like … she and her mother have some different opinions about things.”

Jack shrugged. “It’s complicated. There was a big incident a few years back, but that’s her story to tell. They get on a lot better nowadays. For the most part.”

“I see,” Hiccup said. “Sounds … complicated.” And kind of nice, if he was honest. Made him wonder what would have happened if he’d gone home after a while, instead of staying out here in the woods.

He would still be walking corpse, that was what.

“So, uh,” Hiccup said. “Dinner?”

“Yup. Tell me what it’s like in the fancy castle?”

Oh. He should have figured Jack wouldn’t be coming with him. For some reason, he’d just assumed that the invitation was extended to both of them.

He found himself assuming that Jack would be doing things with him a lot, these days.

“Wait. You’ve been inside the castle. Merida said something about you and her brothers. You must see the inside of the castle all the time!”

Jack shrugged. “Well … most of the views I get of it are at fairly high speed. You don’t try and _find_ those three kids inside the castle, you know. They know every nook and cranny — not even I can find them in there if they’re really determined to hide. If you don’t keep up with them, that’s the end of it.”

“Sounds like a handful,” Hiccup said.

“Three handfuls. Thankfully, I seem to manage with two hands and a staff.”

“You do a lot of things with that staff,” Hiccup said.

“It’s got a hook on the end. It’s useful.”

Hiccup smiled, trying to either ignore the urge to push up his sleeves, so the damp on his arms didn’t quite bother him so much, or just get over his nervousness and do it already.

He recalled suddenly that Jack had very definitely seen him with his shirt off, and suddenly the nerves came back all at once.

Jack paused, and squinted at him. “What’s wrong? You went a funny colour all of a sudden.”

Hiccup truly and honestly had nothing witty, intelligent, or even fundamentally coherent to say about that. “N - nothing.”

Jack shrugged. “If you say so. I know the idea of dinner with strangers is probably worrying you.”

Hiccup snorted. That concept really hadn’t hit him yet. There were just too many other things vying for his attention right now. He gestured at the house. “Sorry. It’s going to have to wait in line, I’m afraid.”

There was silence for another moment, and then Hiccup sighed. “Well, it’s getting late. I suppose that’s about as much as I’m going to get done on this today.” He turned and grinned at Jack. “Guess it’s time to start worrying about the next thing,” he said. “I can save worrying about this for tomorrow.”

Jack didn’t respond.

“That’s the good thing about worrying,” Hiccup continued. “It’s always there again tomorrow.”

He realised that Jack was looking away from him.

“What?” Had that been too far? Did he say something wrong? “Jack?”

Jack took a deep breath, and looked up, face grinning as if nothing had happened. “Sorry, I was somewhere else for a moment.”

Hiccup was sure there was more to it than that, but he shrugged. “Sounds nice,” he said. Then he looked down and plucked at his shirt. “I guess I’d better see what I can pull together,” he said. “Queen Elinor might not appreciate me turning up in my work clothes.”

Jack shrugged. “Sure, but she’s too well-mannered to say anything about it.”

“That doesn’t mean I should _do_ it.”

“Do you _have_ any other clothes?”

“Um. This, but clean?”

“That’ll do. Trust me, they’re not expecting you to turn up in nobleman’s best.”

There was something awfully suspicious about that sentence. “Is that because someone warned them against expecting that?”

“Well, you, mainly,” Jack said. Then he snorted. “Hiccup, it’s nothing mysterious. You live alone in the woods. It’s pretty obvious that you don’t have an extensive wardrobe. Don’t be so worried about it! You’re the only person I know who might be even more worried about appearances than the Queen.”

“Hrmph,” Hiccup said.

“Except maybe for the sarcasm,” Jack said.

Hiccup rolled his eyes. He supposed he should start trying to find his cleanest clothes. He looked down at his hands, covered in sawdust and dirt.

And he should probably at least make an effort to clean himself off.


	23. Dinner Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the things I have set up in the last few chapters that I’m not allowed to tell anyone about because SPOILERS DAMMIT WHY DO I HAVE TO KEEP ALL THESE SECRETS??

Jack chatted all the way to the edge of the forest, where Castle Dunbroch stood. Hiccup only answered him occasionally.

Hiccup didn’t think he’d ever talked as much as when he was with Jack. He’d known people back in Berk who talked incessantly, and he’d always been somewhat of a nervous babbler, but that was different to talking.

But in his experience, when people talked a lot, they didn’t tend to give other people the chance to get a word in. That had suited Hiccup just fine — he hadn’t had much in common with the people back in Berk, so not needing to respond wasn’t a bad thing.

Jack was different, though. He was always checking to see if Hiccup was still listening, asking questions, inviting Hiccup to join in on jokes. Hiccup was actually starting to feel a little guilty that he wasn’t really answering back, but when he said so, Jack just waved him away, told him that he was just nervous and not to worry about it, and then kept going.

It was hard to read Jack — it was painfully clear that very little of what Jack said reflected how he truly felt about things, but Hiccup had no idea what those real feelings were. He felt permanently off balance.

But then Jack was going to leave him at the edge of the forest, and Hiccup would have taken off balance any day just to have the company at the dinner he was about to attend.

Jack patted him on the shoulder. “Hey — if Toothless does his shrinking trick, they’ll probably let him into the castle, you know.”

Hiccup looked down. “You think?”

“The dogs are allowed in.” Jack shrugged. “Worse comes to worst you get to the door and someone politely asks you to leave him outside.”

Hiccup shrugged. That didn’t seem like the worst case scenario to him.

“Trust me,” Jack said. “Queen Elinor will probably greet you personally. Merida shot you. The worst you’re going to get is a polite suggestion that there are places you can leave Toothless where he won’t run away.”

Hiccup sighed. “Alright. Toothless?”

He held out his arms and Toothless jumped up into them, transforming into a tiny, black cat with green eyes as he went, and landing perfectly, getting comfortable against Hiccup’s shoulder as Hiccup rubbed under his chin.

Hiccup had to chuckle — Jack’s hands had automatically gone up and he’d half-stepped forward to brace Hiccup as Toothless had jumped.

Toothless made a _prr-ow_ noise and butted Hiccup in the chin.

“It takes a bit of getting used to him doing that, doesn’t it?” Hiccup asked.

Jack smiled at himself, and scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, well, it looked a little precarious there for a second.”

Hiccup looked over at the castle and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Alright,” he said. “Wish me luck.”

“I’ll be waiting to hear how it went,” Jack said, and patted Hiccup on the shoulder.

***

Jack was right. Hiccup walked across the castle grounds and before he even got there, the doors opened and there was Queen Elinor, standing with her arm around her husband’s, smiling genteelly at him.

King Fergus was wearing a great fur cape, his tunic belted with a surprisingly plain leather belt and buckle. All the ostentation seemed to have been saved for his shoulder-brooches, which were intricately detailed with the insignia of a bear, and the cape itself. His boots were wrapped leather, and his crown balanced on his formidable brow. Hiccup found his heart rising into his throat. Fergus was tall and broad, and reminded Hiccup unavoidably of Stoick.

He scratched Toothless behind the ears as he walked up.

He saw Elinor’s elbow move just the slightest bit, and her husband suddenly stood up a lot straighter, and coughed.

“Welcome, uh … Hiccup? To Castle Dunbroch. I am King Fergus of Dunbroch, and this is my lovely wife, Queen Elinor. We are honoured to invite you in for dinner.”

His accent was nearly broader than Merida’s, and even though he’d grown up with Gobber, Hiccup hadn’t really thought that was possible.

The Dunbrochs looked at him closely, waiting for his response. That was it. Here came the questions … but apparently he’d changed enough over the years, because there wasn’t even a glimmer of realisation in their eyes.

“Thank you,” he said, finally realising that they weren’t going to say anything until he did. “Um. I’m Hiccup …” he didn’t want to give his full name. “Just Hiccup. And this is Toothless.”

Fergus glanced at Elinor, then, but she shot him a warning glance, and he smoothed the look from his face. Was it about Toothless? Then they weren’t going to let him inside after all …

“Welcome,” Elinor said, stepping a little aside so she could gesture into the castle. “We are honoured to have you visit, and we would like to apologise for the way we greeted you other day.”

Fergus’s face twisted, and the glance that Elinor gave him spoke volumes. Hiccup suspected he was trying very hard not to laugh, and furthermore that he had been given some very specific instructions on what was and was not an appropriate joking matter at dinner.

“Merida will be back shortly,” Elinor said smoothly, obviously trying to draw Hiccup’s attention away from her husband. “She is out riding, and I expect she is either nearly back or now making herself presentable.”

Hiccup nodded. “I’m sure,” he said. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she didn’t come, really. He’d skipped out of dinners like this more than once himself. Never where he was supposed to be. That was him. And he was getting surer by the second that he wasn’t supposed to be here.

Toothless butted him in the chin again, and he said, “That’s fine. I’m sure she will.”

Fergus gestured, and they walked together into the castle. The relief was almost physically painful when Hiccup realised that they weren’t going to close the door behind him.

That relief was immediately gone when Hiccup saw the size of the room that they’d just walked into. Berk’s dining halls had been huge. _This_ was gigantic. Stairs led up at least three … four flights to different levels of the castle, and there didn’t seem to be a single floor that didn’t have a servant rushing either to it or away from it, carrying something or going somewhere vitally important. Hiccup hoped they were going to a smaller room to have their dinner. Oh, please, let them be going to a smaller room.

Toothless dug a gentle paw into Hiccup’s shoulder as he realised that he’d tensed and was holding the little cat just a bit too tight.

“So, uh, Hiccup,” Fergus said, as they mounted the stairs. “That’s an … interesting name.”

Hiccup stiffened. “It’s … sort of a tradition where I’m from.”

He heard the sound of Fergus being elbowed again.

“Actually, it’s supposed to be a ward against fairies,” Hiccup said, feeling like he should do something to salvage Fergus’s reputation. “W — they — the story goes that if you give your child an ugly name, the fairies will never know if it’s their real name or a nickname, so they’ll never be brave enough to use a child’s name against them.” He shrugged. “Apparently if they try to do real-name magic with a nickname or false name, it backfires on the fairy who cast it.”

“I had heard of that myself,” Elinor said, as she gestured to Hiccup that they should proceed through the door in front of them, which led into a side hall. “I’ve heard of a few towns that do that still. It’s a very old tradition.”

“There’s some,” Hiccup said.

Elinor smiled. “We haven’t been out West in a long time, have we, Fergus?” she asked.

“You do keep us busy, dear,” Fergus said, without any particular accusation or annoyance.

As they passed a room Fergus glanced at Elinor, and then gestured at a door. “There’s a nice safe place if you’d like to leave Toothless to have some dinner,” he said.

“Oh, let him bring the cat if he likes,” Elinor said.

Fergus looked at her in unadulterated shock. “Darling! After all that grief you give me over having the dogs at the table!”

“It’s just a cat, Fergus,” Elinor said. “And a remarkably clean one by the looks. It’s not going to track mud over the floors, and you can’t throw your greasy bones to it from the table.”

Fergus muttered something.

“What was that, dear?”

Hiccup bristled. He shouldn’t be here to listen to this. But then Elinor winked at him, and there was a twinkle in her eyes, and Hiccup realised that Fergus was hiding a smile, and he tried to relax. Just because his family squabbles had been … well, Elinor and Fergus didn’t seem to be too serious about their argument, which was a relief.

“Nothing, my sweet, my darling, my ray of raven-haired sunshine,” Fergus said, bending down to kiss Elinor on the forehead. “Only if I’d known you’d be so partial to cats, I’d have trained hunting cats instead.”

“ _Mow_ ,” said Toothless, pointedly.

Hiccup adjusted his arms so that he was squeezing Toothless a little less again. “I think he objects to the concept of training,” he said, to cover his nerves, and gave Fergus a serious look. “I think you’re only still in his good graces because of the ‘hunting cat’ comment.”

Fergus burst out laughing, a loud hearty laugh, and came over, letting Toothless sniff and then rub his face on one of his huge fingers. “Well, now,” he said. “Picky little beast! I’ll have to mind I keep on his good side — he looks half as fierce as my wife!”

At Toothless’s baleful glance, he bent down and put up a hand as though whispering conspiratorially to the cat. “Don’t give me that glare — if you knew her, you’d know that’s more than fair!”

So, did this mean that Fergus and Elinor had accepted that Hiccup wasn’t a fairy? They seemed relaxed. Was that a good sign?

Then Fergus stood up, giving Hiccup an almighty clap on the back. “Come to the dining room, laddie! We’ll put on a feast!”

Hiccup stumbled a little, but managed to keep his composure.

Fergus strode past Hiccup into the dining hall, but Elinor lagged for a moment to pat him on the shoulder. “You’re doing very well, dear,” she said.

Hiccup shrugged. Did she mean about getting along with her husband? “He seems happy.”

Elinor looked after her husband. “Yes,” she said fondly. “He is that.”

***

The dining hall was huge. Hiccup admitted he probably ought to have expected something like this, given that he was in a castle, but his father had had one big dining hall that took up an entire building in the town, and it had just been big enough to fit the entire village in.

This one was nearly half the size of that one, and it was just one room.

“We thought it would be a waste to use the big dining hall,” Elinor said, “Since there’s only one — sorry, dear, two of you — you get to eat with us in the family dining room today.”

“Family dining room,” Hiccup said.

Before he could say anything any more scathing, or astonished, Merida burst into the room, her hair streaming behind her, still adjusting her sleeves.

“Sorry, Mum!” she gasped. “Am I still on time?”

“Perfectly on time, dear,” Elinor said patiently. “If a little enthusiastic.”

Merida rolled her eyes, then turned to Hiccup with a bright smile. “Hello, Hiccup! I meant to be here a bit earlier, but I went out further than I expected, and it was a bit of a ride to get back on time.” She elbowed him. “I even pulled all of the twigs out of me hair for you.”

“I’m honoured,” Hiccup said.

Fergus just laughed. “Lucky lad! You should have seen what she did to the last few strapping young things who came to visit!”

It was hard to demonstrate while holding Toothless, but Hiccup made a show of flapping his arms. “Strapping? Everyone knows fishbones are the real popular men.”

Merida snorted, and pointed to a chair. “Well, sit down. It’s impossible to leave a Dunbroch feast and still be a fishbone!”

She wasn’t wrong. The plates started coming from the kitchens — chicken and pork and huge bowls of salad and plates of sweet cakes and breads and vegetables roasted, baked stuffed — and they just kept coming!

And that’s when Fergus and Merida started filling their plates. At first, Hiccup had been wondering who else they were planning to invite, to the dinner, but now he was wondering if there would be anything left for him and Elinor.

Elinor gave Merida a hard look.

“Sorry, Mum,” Merida said, and held out a hand to Hiccup. “Here. Let me fill your plate.”

“Oh, no, that’s …”

Somehow at the other side of the table, three small heads of red hair had appeared and that half of the table had suddenly become a flurry of flying food.

“Boys,” Elinor cautioned, but it was without much conviction. If Jack’s description was right, then Hiccup didn’t blame her for that. It probably just plain wasn’t possible to stop them from doing something once they’d set their minds to it.

He hadn’t noticed her taking it, but Merida passed the plate back. Hiccup just stared for a moment.

“Th - thanks,” he said. “I’m not sure where I’m going to put it all, but thanks.”

“I just wanted to make sure ye got enough once before the wee terrors were done,” Merida said with a wink, gesturing her head to the three boys.

All of a sudden, a chicken breast disappeared off his plate and under the table, and Toothless started purring.

“Oh, of course. In you,” Hiccup said. “Also, thanks, Toothless, they were a pair of clean pants.”

Fergus laughed. “See, Elinor! Just as disruptive as the dogs!”

Elinor sighed. “Do you want me to get something to clean that up?” she asked.

“Oh, no! That’s fine, really!” Hiccup said. “He’ll only do it again.”

“How was your ride today, dear?” Elinor asked Merida.

“Good,” Merida said. “I went up to the falls again, but I didn’t go climbing today. I got some rabbits, though! I gave them to Cook.”

“Maybe we’ll see them later tonight, then,” Elinor said. “Although I’m sure she would have liked a little more warning than that …”

Merida shrugged. “Maybe we’ll have them tomorrow then.”

“It’s not like we need any more food,” Hiccup said, half to himself, half to Merida.

Merida chuckled. “You wait till you see the bairns on the other side of the table finish all this off.”

“They can’t,” Hiccup said. “There isn’t physically room.”

Merida shrugged. “You’ll believe it when you leave,” she said.

One the other side of the table, food was still flying.

“Maybe I will,” Hiccup conceded.

Nobody seemed to be particularly interested in talking until they’d finished eating — Elinor delicately with a knife and fork, the others more worried about what angle was best to fit the most possible food in their mouths. Hiccup picked up the knife and fork. He didn’t have the manners that Elinor did, certainly, but, well, it seemed to work relatively well. Occasionally, Toothless would pop his head up and either nudge Hiccup’s arm or bat the plate with his paw, which was Hiccup’s cue to pass down another piece of chicken, or a cut of pork from the plate. Toothless was probably eating more than he was, but Toothless did far more hunting, so he probably needed it more.

He was rather dreading the moment when they all started to slow down, because that was when he’d have to finally start asking questions, and he really was not looking forward to that.


	24. Dinner Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which this AU’s fairy lore deviates sharply and significantly from IRL lore, and it becomes obvious I’m just throwing bits and pieces together into something that sort of sounds cool. 
> 
> Also, I'm so sorry, I realise that it's been a few days. Things kinda got away from me for a bit. In apology, I'm uploading two chapters today, for your reading enjoyment.

Dinner, however, eventually did slow down and the moment that Hiccup had been dreading arrived.

“So, uh … that storm, huh?” he asked, when it seemed like nobody would accuse him of interrupting.

He noticed the look Merida was giving him. She probably thought he didn’t, but he did.

“It got so cold and wet in the bedroom that Ellie and I …” King Fergus stopped suddenly, as Queen Elinor raised an eyebrow. He coughed.

No, not Stoick. Hiccup revised his opinion. Gobber. Definitely Gobber.

“And how did you survive it?” Queen Elinor asked. “I don’t recall Merida telling us where exactly you lived …?”

“The hut held,” Hiccup said. “I, uh. Never expected to get that personal with a chicken before, but at least they stayed in their coops.”

King Fergus laughed so loud that the dogs behind him lifted their heads and looked up at him in surprise, and Toothless made a small vibration in Hiccup’s lap.

Merida snorted. “Aye, and you look like a chicken would give you bit of trouble!” She pinched his arm.

Queen Elinor looked as though she was about to chide Merida, but Hiccup rolled his eyes, and just said. “Ask Jack about the chickens. He has a good story he ought to tell you.”

Merida’s eyes twinkled. Even the triplets paused what they were doing across the table and looked between themselves.

“Oh dear,” Queen Elinor said.

“It really wasn’t the season for that storm though,” Hiccup said, changing the topic back quickly.

“I suppose it is a little late,” Queen Elinor said.

Hiccup looked over at her, trying to look innocent. “Do you think there will be harvest trouble this year? If this weather continues?”

“Harvest trouble?” The Queen almost looked surprised by that question. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine. One storm won’t do too much damage…”

“Of course,” Hiccup said. Well, he was out of subtle ways to broach the question. “And the spirits?”

The whole table went quiet.

“Sorry,” Hiccup said quickly.

“Ah, don’t be sorry,” Merida said, with a grin.

Queen Elinor sighed. “I should have known you’d be in cahoots with my daughter.”

“Ooh,” King Fergus said. “Cahoots is serious.” He winked at Hiccup, who returned a very nervous grin.

“Dear,” Queen Elinor said, more resigned than severe. “Unfortunately, I don’t know much about that.”

Merida rolled her eyes. “Mum. You’ve been acting all weird -” she wiggled her fingers and wrinkled her nose at her mother “- since that storm. There’s something else going on.”

“I just know a few old stories,” Queen Elinor said. “Lords riding in on dark storm clouds and that sort of thing.”

“So, there _are_ old stories about it,” Hiccup said. “What about it? What _exactly_ do they say?”

Queen Elinor and Merida shared a glance.

“It’s not really a topic for the dinner table,” Elinor said. “Why don’t we talk about that later?”

Hiccup almost argued for a moment there, before he remembered exactly where he was. He closed his mouth. “Sure,” he mumbled.

“Well,” King Fergus said. “Why don’t we have a wee change of subject?”

***

The last of the dinner lingered on much longer than Hiccup would have liked. It was starting to get dark, and it was getting very close to when he’d have to make his excuses and get back to the hut. Not that he was too worried about walking through the forest at night, with Toothless. But it didn’t do to be too strange around the real live humans.

Although after recent nights, maybe he needed to _start_ being worried about that.

But before he left, Queen Elinor banished the triplets to whatever semblance of bedtime routine they had, and sat down again with a sigh at the table.

“So,” she said. “Stories.”

King Fergus stood up. “I’ll go … make sure the boys are behaving,” he said.

“Talking about spirits and fairies gives Dad the willies,” Merida whispered to Hiccup, once King Fergus was out of earshot.

Hiccup didn’t blame him, really. He used to think he was above all that, but after seeing the procession of fairies in the woods the other day, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Queen Elinor looked back at Merida and Hiccup. “But first, I want to know — why do you need to know so badly?”

Hiccup frowned. “What do you mean?”

Merida sighed. “No, Mother, I didn’t put him up to this.” She shrugged at Hiccup. “She likes to check in on anything to do with spirits and magic. Sort of my fault.”

“Merida,” Queen Elinor cautioned.

“I get it, Mum,” Merida said. “Not the best decision I’ve made in my life. But this one has nothing to do with me, I swear.”

“I just live kind of close to …” Hiccup paused. “I live alone in the woods. Mostly alone.” — adding that last so that she didn’t try to pry too much about why, exactly he lived alone -- “And Jack Frost thinks there’s something strange going on, too.” It was a bit of a gamble, mentioning Jack, but if Elinor thought that Jack was a spirit, then wouldn’t it at least convince her to tell him what she knew?

Queen Elinor looked a little uncomfortable at that. Even Merida pretended to be preoccupied with her empty plate for a bit.

“It was said that one of the Great Lords used to ride on the storms,” she said. “She used to come to the world sometimes, on unseasonal storms with black clouds. People used to stay indoors for a full week after a storm like that, for fear of being caught.”

“I’ve been out every day since then,” Merida said.

“Well, at least some of it has to be old rumours,” Queen Elinor said. “Besides, dear,” she folded her hands in front of her, with a twinkle in her eye. “I decided I wouldn’t survive keeping you inside for a week any more than you would.”

Merida wrinkled her nose at her mother and laughed.

“Which Lord?” Hiccup asked. “I know of the Moon and the Sun …”

“Storms?” Merida asked. “One of them must have been storms, right?”

“The West Wind,” Queen Elinor corrected. “All the big storms always come from the West, and she would come on the worst of them.”’

Hiccup tried to recall the stories that Gobber used to tell the Berk children. “Six of them, weren’t there? Sun, Moon, and the four Winds?”

“That’s right.”

Hiccup paused. “So which one is Pitch Black?” he asked.

Queen Elinor hesitated. “None of them. Why?”

“Then, who is he? He’s the one … that everyone in the village used to be afraid of,” Hiccup said. He thought perhaps it would be best not to mention Jack in this context.

“Yes, I know about him,” the Queen said. “He’s not one of the Lords, though. He’s just a minor figure.”

“Oh,” Hiccup said.

“A local figure,” Queen Elinor said. “There are lots of stories about him. But he’s not one of the Lords. He leads other fairies, but he’s not a Lord.”

“I see,” Hiccup said. “Like the difference between the Royal Family and …” he stopped himself from saying ‘my father’, “the Chiefs of the towns and villages.”

“Yes, something of that sort,” Queen Elinor said. “The West Wind … I’ll try and find some of the old stories. I wrote some down, and there are other books as well, in the library. But it may yet be just one storm.”

Hiccup didn’t think she was convinced. He certainly wasn’t. But he got the feeling that that was all the information she could give him without looking up details, and she was politely dismissing any further questions.

“Thank you anyway,” he said, and picked up Toothless, ready to go.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” Merida said.

At the door, she patted Hiccup on the back. “You’ll get home safe?”

Hiccup bumped his chin on Toothless’s head, since both hands were currently occupied with holding him. “He’ll keep me safe,” he said, a little more bravely than he felt.

Merida sighed. “I really thought she’d have more than that. The number of those stories she’s made me learn …”

“I don’t suppose you remember anything about them?” Hiccup asked.

“Does it seem like I listened?” Merida asked, with a giggle. “But I’ll keep working on her. If she tells me anything more, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks,” Hiccup said.

“Whereabouts do you live, anyway?” Merida asked.

Hiccup tensed.

“It’d be easier if I could drop by,” Merida said. “Rather than you coming here all the time.”

Hiccup shrugged. “I’ll … have to show you sometime. It’s hard to give directions.”

“Next time, then. Promise?”

Hiccup didn’t want to, but Toothless batted his shoulder in a very deliberate way, so he sighed and said. “Sure. Promise.”


	25. Invited In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter of two uploads today! Sorry again for getting distracted!
> 
> This chapter is for everyone who sent >:0 messages to me after chapter three. Be careful what you wish for.

It was the third fairy walking in the general direction of North’s mound that made Jack suspect that something was probably going on. Twirling his staff and jumping onto the wind, he started off, following behind them, just far enough not to be noticed.

He had to wait for a few minutes before he could avoid one of the gathered groups to slip into the mound. Fairies were walking alongside him, casting him glances as they walked. He ignored them. That was the trick with fairies. You just had to walk along as if you had every right to be there sharing their space, and most of them would be too polite to really do anything. Jack knew all about fairies, and exactly how far you could push them.

Once they were in the gardens, it was a little easier for Jack to avoid the larger groups. If he was going to get kicked out of the mound again, it should be North who got the pleasure. It was practically traditional by now.

He vaulted over the last quarter of the hedge maze. It was only really fun the first couple of times. Fairies never seemed to never get bored of it, though.

North was greeting guests at the exit to the hedge maze. This time, he was holding an indoor gathering, it seemed. He’d set up a gigantic archway just after the end of the hedge maze, and a path lined with flowering hedges either side, funnelling the guests into the house. Today it was a modern-style castle, not blocky and fortressy like the Dunbroch Castle, something that looked like you were supposed to look at it as you approached and admire the architecture. Pity Jack didn’t know much about architecture.

The party had started to wander inside — it seemed North had decided that they should keep the chill of the season, rather than blunting it. There were large, hairy yetis standing at the door and acting as guides, and of course, North’s tiny elves scurrying about on whatever errands they had decided they were needed for.

He wandered up to North, staff casually over his shoulder.

“So,” he said. “Throwing a party.”

“Jack,” North said. He didn’t sound surprised. He had long since stopped being surprised when Jack showed up to one of these events.

“North,” Jack said, mimicking his accent and formal tone, then dropping it immediately. “Come on, it’s just me. I’m not some big figure you have to be polite to.”

North shrugged. “It is still good to be polite.”

“Alright, well, in the spirit of that, how about it? Want to let me in for a couple hours?”

He didn’t have any hopes. He was fully expecting to be sent home with a plate of food and the verbal equivalent of a pat on the head, but to his surprise, North just sighed and gestured behind him.

“Go on,” he said.

Jack paused for a moment. Fairies didn’t lie, of course, but it took a minute for Jack to think through the possible ways that North could be tricking him.

“Wait,” Jack said. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Why do you keep asking if you don’t expect that one day the answer will be yes?”

Jack decided not to answer that question. “Well, I mean, it’s been a while.”

“It will be nice change.” North clapped Jack on the back. “Surprise entertainment. Is good for people sometimes. Get creative, hm? Give good show.”

Jack said grinned, vaulting over North’s head and dropping a dramatic bow on the other side, just inside the archway. “As always, your hospitality is most appreciated.”

North had already turned back to the hedge maze and didn’t reply, so Jack just slung his staff over his shoulder again, and set off into the hedged path. North’s loss, if he didn’t want to pay attention to Jack thanking him.

***

The archway led right up to the door, which Jack was almost nervous to enter. He shouldn’t have been — he’d been invited in. And yet, it still felt, as he made his way into the actual foyer of North’s palatial home, that he was somehow trespassing.

The first room beyond that was full of fairies milling about and talking, around a few big tables full of finger foods and pastries. From the next room, Jack could hear the musicians playing and people dancing already. Despite the fact that it was getting to the middle of autumn, there was a distinct ‘spring’ theme to the event. The decorations seemed to mainly consist of flowers, red and yellow and purple, still on their stems, hanging from every available surface, and strung along the tables and any other furniture.

Jack swooped first past the food tables, ignoring the looks of confusion he got from the other — well, from the guests. He wasn’t a guest, after all. He was the entertainment.

Once he’d squirrelled away some pastries in a corner, he tossed his staff from hand to hand and rolled his head around his neck. North had better be ready for him to start, because he wasn’t waiting any longer. With a whoop loud enough to let the whole mound know he was there, he took off towards the ceiling. He took a certain petty glee in disrupting so many of the hushed, over-serious conversations around the room. At least a few of them had been about him.

But he put that from his mind as he braced himself against the corner of the roof.

Jack loved flying on the wind in the woods, but it made his heart hurt to remember just how much easier it was here. He barely needed to try in North’s mound — he was perched on a corner of the wall with his feet on a rounded pillar and one hand on the ceiling, suspended by barely a breeze.

He banished that thought from his mind, too. He was here to entertain! To distract people from whatever it was North apparently wanted them distracted from.

He pushed off and skimmed across the roof, staff out to steer by and his other hand trailing across the ceiling. His fingers left ice patterns wherever they touched, bending and curving as he turned and circled. He had no plan, didn’t fly in any particular direction except the one that seemed good at the time. This was ice and snowflakes. This was what he was best at.

Below him, someone gasped. Jack grinned. Always one. Despite the sideways looks and the mutterings and North’s pinched face at every “not today” or “go home, Jack,” whenever he was let in, whenever he was actually given a chance to do this … there was always one.

Sometimes even more than one. Jack was followed into the next room by a small group of watchers. He chuckled, and reversed his course back into the first room, looping between them several times, just to see if he could make the watchers follow him back and forth.

No such luck: They just stood and clogged the doorway. Except of course, for the little elf-creatures, who bumped into each other and the guests’ legs as they rushed from room to room, staring up at Jack’s work. And now he was getting dirty looks from the big yetis. Ah, well, it was worth a try.

The ballroom, like the other rooms, was draped in foliage and flowers in reds and yellows and purples. Great garlands like weeping willow fronds hung from the ceiling at the corners and from the pillars, casting the sweet scent of the flowers down into the dancers below.

Jack gave a silent and completely insincere apology to North’s decorations, and turned the whole room into an ice palace.

The flowers frosted over and became wreaths of ice statues, tiny crystals clinking off each other as Jack’s flight path disturbed the air around them. He tapped his staff in the middle of the ceiling and ice flowed from it, encasing the spiral pattern of crystals he’d already created in a cold, perfectly clear tomb. He let it drip down the walls like wax down the side of a candle, and added a frosting of rougher flakes to the edges, so they caught the light and sparkled, peppering the ballroom floor with spots of rainbow light.

Jack soared from room to room, decorating the whole palace, even — especially — the rooms where the guests weren’t supposed to go. He managed to shake his little audience in the crowded ballroom and made his way back to North, who clapped him on the shoulder.

“Is good, Jack! Very impressive!”

“I killed your flowers.”

“Ah,” North said dismissively. “Always more flowers. I think you are talk of whole mound now, yes?”

North’s face was encouraging, willing Jack to agree with him, and to be happy.

Jack just shrugged. “Mission accomplished, then.”

North’s face fell, and he sighed. “Yes. Go have food. Enjoy party. Stay for a while this time. Maybe you make friend, hm?”

“Thanks, but I’m good for friends,” Jack said. All of a sudden the room felt stifling, despite the ice-cased ceiling sending cool air fluttering down to the packed floor.

“Take food, then,” North said. Then he sighed. “You are strange, Jack. You spend so much time trying to get into my parties, then when you do, you never talk, you leave early … what is point?”

“Same reason everyone else is here,” Jack said, shrugging as he walked backwards away from North. “Just to say they were at one of North’s parties.”

Waving over his shoulder, he picked up the food he’d saved, and passed under the archway out of the palace, sun getting steadily brighter as the flowers retreated. He flew over the garden maze and back to the forest.


	26. Get Me Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is doing OK. I know it's not much, and times are scary, but I hope I can at least offer some pleasant distraction. Look after yourselves, OK?

As he got further out from North’s mound, and the claustrophobic feel of the crowds started to wear off, Jack felt his grin spread wider and wider. He’d been allowed in! And he’d showed those stuck up fairies with his ice trick! The more he thought about it, the more convinced Jack became that it had been his best performance yet.

It was too late to visit Hiccup now — it wouldn’t do to surprise him and wake him up — and besides. He owed someone else a visit.

The tower loomed tall as always, a silhouette in the dark at this time of night. The lights were all off, which was a good sign. Mother Gothel probably wouldn’t still be awake.

He circled the tower and all its windows just once, to be sure, then alighted on Punzie’s windowsill.

“Psst! Punzie! Hey, Punzie!”

The figure curled up a little tighter in the bed. In the dark, Jack could see her white and blue eyes — she hadn’t yet been to sleep.

“Jack,” she whispered. “Mother’s here. You should go.”

“She’s asleep,” he said. “I checked.”

Punzie sat up a little, looking down past her bed to the shut door. Her gaze lingered there for one, two seconds longer than Jack expected.

Jack noticed that Pascal was watching him, and not in the usual, suspicious way. It still wasn’t a friendly look, just expectant and considering.

“Punzie?” he asked. “Something wrong?”

She shook her head, but it wasn’t convincing. “Hm … nothing. You’re here very late.”

“I know,” Jack said. “Sorry. Just couldn’t stay away. Look! I brought food!” He produced the bag of pastries and put them in front of her.

“Again? So soon?” Punzie took a pastry out of the bag, but now Jack was sure something was wrong. She didn’t seem enthusiastic at all.

“I got lucky,” Jack said.

Punzie ate half her pastry, and then gave him a scrutinizing look. “You’re happy today,” she said.

“Yeah!” Jack meant to press Punzie for more of an answer about her dark mood, but her statement just made all the excitement bubble up again. “You should’ve seen it, Punzie,” he said, spreading his arms wide. “The best ice sculpture I’ve ever done!”

He stopped again as Punzie tried to smile and didn’t quite manage it. Her pastry was resting in her lap, and she’d stopped paying attention to it entirely. Pascal was looking at her, not him for once, and made a little croaking noise at her.

“Hey,” Jack said, excitement draining out of him. “You sure nothing’s wrong?”

Punzie bit her lip. “I can’t do this anymore, Jack.”

Terror sank into Jack’s heart and stomach, dripping like blood down his spine. No. What had Gothel done? He decided then and there, he wouldn’t stay away. No matter what Gothel threatened him with! Or … oh, no. What had Punzie learned? What if Gothel had told her? About why he came to the tower that first time?

“After the storm,” Punzie continued, focusing on her hands rather than on Jack’s stricken face, “It seems like something’s … I don’t know. Maybe even before that. I feel like everyone else knows things they aren’t telling me. I can’t stand it anymore.”

Jack knew that he was part of that ‘everyone’ and it struck as deep as the initial terror. “Punzie …”

Pascal crawled up onto Rapunzel’s shoulder, and she glanced down at him, smiling, then looked back up at Jack, her face totally serious. “Take me out of the tower,” she said, her voice nearly cracking as she said it. “Jack, get me out of here.”

Pure relief flooded through Jack’s body. She wasn’t telling him to leave. She finally wanted to get out of the tower! He could do that. He’d been waiting for those words for years. “Consider it done,” he said, holding his hand out to her.

Punzie took his hand nervously. He gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Trust me,” he said. “If I can get Hiccup down safely, I can definitely do it for you.” He looked around the room, at the wardrobe and the paint box and all Punzie’s trinkets and things — apology gifts from Gothel, as if they made anything better — on the shelves. “What are we taking with us?”

Punzie closed her eyes, and held Pascal tight to her chest with her other hand. “Nothing. Just tell me when the fall is over.”


	27. Halfway House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I haven’t forgotten what I said about fairy food. For those who know their fairy lore, I promise I haven’t forgotten. I’m gonna address that soon.

When Hiccup heard the knock on his door, he knew for a fact that it was Jack. He groaned and sat up, Toothless grumbling on his lap, and called, “Coming.”

He quickly got dressed, strapping on his leg and pulling the trouser leg down over it. He covered his thin nightshirt with a coat before opening the door.

It wasn’t just Jack there. It was Rapunzel, too.

Hiccup stood and blinked for a moment. What had happened? Was something wrong? What had finally made her leave the tower?

“Hey,” Jack said, waving a bag that smelled like those … pastry things he’d brought last time he interrupted Hiccup late at night. “Can we come in?”

Hiccup, still recovering, waved them through the door.

As he slowly woke up and his senses started to return, he noticed Rapunzel looking around curiously — or was that nervously? — as she and Jack sat at the table and opened the bag of pastries. He also noticed the tension in her face, the slightly hunted look in her eyes not entirely overshadowed by her excitement and interest at being in a new house.

“Hungry?” Jack asked Hiccup.

Hiccup opened his mouth to demand that Jack tell him what was going on, then closed it again and just muttered, “No, thanks.”

Jack pulled a second bag out of the first and put it on the table. “I got this for you, since you didn’t like the pastries.”

“Thoughtful,” Hiccup said. He backed away from the table until his legs were leaning against the bed.

Rapunzel’s shoulders went up, her hands cupping the pastry she was holding and pulling it closer.

But Jack’s facial expression didn’t change. He still had that easy grin that he always seemed to have. “Couldn’t find you any dried fruit on such short notice, but I hope you like that,” he said, still talking to Hiccup.

If he stayed back any longer, Hiccup would attract Jack’s attention. He could see Rapunzel picking up on the mood in the air, but Jack obviously hadn’t yet.

Hiccup quickly debated with himself. But … no. Jack wouldn’t let up, he knew that about the … whatever he was … already. And maybe if he moved, Rapunzel wouldn’t feel so awkward.

So he stepped forward carefully and took the paper bag. He peeped inside. It looked like nuts, and smelled like spices. He carefully put the bag down on the table. “Thanks, but not that hungry,” he said. “It’s pretty late. I already had dinner.”

Jack’s expression looked a little brittle. “Guess they fed you well at the castle,” he said.

“But I’ll save them,” Hiccup said, securing the bag and going to put them in the cupboard.

“Jack …” Rapunzel said, a little warily.

“It’s fine,” Hiccup said, trying a reassuring smile. “He’s always coming in late like this. You, uh …” he trailed off. _So, you finally left Mother Gothel in that tower, huh?_ Yeah, _that_ was going to make this less awkward.

“Come on, this should be a celebration!” Jack said, putting his half-eaten pastry down on the table. “Punzie’s free, there’s food …”

“It’s late, Jack,” Hiccup said. “Or early.”

“Right, right,” Jack said. “I’m going. I just wanted to ask — Hiccup, can Punzie stay here for a while?”

Hiccup glanced at Rapunzel, and Rapunzel glanced back. Jack just went right on talking.

“I don’t exactly have a house,” Jack said. “I can’t take her to Tooth. Or Aster. Besides, she already knows you, and you got on well, right?”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “Fine.” He tried not to sound too unenthusiastic, but this was all sounding like he didn’t have too much of a choice.

What was he going to do for a bed?

“It’s fine,” Rapunzel said, “I’m sure I can find …”

“No, it’s fine,” Hiccup said, more firmly. “I’ll uh … just give me a sec to find something to do for a bed.”

“I don’t snore,” Rapunzel said, with a little nervous shrug and a smile. “At least there’s that?”

Hiccup snorted. “Yeah … me neither.” He almost added ‘ _hard to snore when you don_ _’t breathe_ ’, but he stopped himself. Just because Jack knew didn’t mean that he had to tell Rapunzel, too, just yet. He got the feeling that she might take it a little harder than Jack did.

“See? It’s working out already,” Jack said cheerily, and Hiccup turned away to the cupboard to start looking for any spare bedclothes … maybe he hadn’t thrown out his old last set yet? Or was that the one with all the holes in it…?

Jack stood up and pushed the pastries across the table while Hiccup looked.

“See you both later,” he said. “Here, Punzie, you can keep these.”

There was a long pause, and Hiccup nearly turned back around by the time Rapunzel said, “Thanks, Jack.”

“See you, too,” Hiccup said. Then he glanced over at the window. Oh, Odin, it was morning. Why was it already morning?

Jack gave them a little wave as he walked out the door.

“You, uh … you can use the bed,” Hiccup mumbled as he pulled sheets off it, and started to put the old ones on. They were the ones that were full of holes … but he guessed they weren’t _too_ bad. “I’ll fix something better later.”

“Oh, no …” Rapunzel said. “I can’t just take your bed …”

“It’s fine,” Hiccup said. “It’s nearly time for me to get up and get to work anyway, and you haven’t slept yet tonight, right?” It was still dark, but Hiccup didn’t really need sleep and he supposed he was closer to dawn than dusk, so it was close enough.

Rapunzel gave another sheepish shrug. “Not … really,” she said.

Hiccup stood up and brushed his hands off. “There. That’ll do. I’ll uh … I’m not going too far, OK? Toothless, stay here and … be a cat or whatever.”

Toothless opened one green eye from the bed and yawned pointedly.

Rapunzel tentatively sat on the bed next to him, and reached over to scratch him behind the ears.

Toothless’s eyes closed languidly and he leaned into her fingers. Rapunzel giggled.

Hiccup left them in the hut.

***

As soon as Jack left Hiccup’s hut, the smile had faded away from his face. He’d taken a moment to glance back, but he had to go. He needed to give them a bit of time to get comfortable with each other. He’d tried to be bright and cheery, to smooth things along, but Punzie was still too nervous, and Hiccup … well, Hiccup never had a surplus of bright and cheery. And he’d seen the looks Hiccup was giving him. Maybe it was best if Jack just let them be for a while.

They’d get along, though, in the end, and he’d come back and make sure they were alright. He just hoped they wouldn’t need too much nudging.


	28. Getting to Know You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently a lot of bread for the lower classes in approximately this time period was rye, rather than wheat, and yeast was cultivated in the sourdough style (dried packet yeast obviously wasn’t available back then, and also some stuff I was reading suggests that because rye is lower in gluten, a sourdough yeast is more effective as a rising agent. But do your own research; I didn’t go down that rabbit hole too deep because I was already spending way too much time researching weird and tiny details).
> 
> This literally makes no difference to the story and nobody asked, but I researched this just to make sure Hiccup would have realistic bread and therefore you need to know it, too.

By the time Hiccup had finished doing his morning rounds of the gardens, he’d almost forgotten about the unexpected guest in the house. He’d pushed it out of his mind as he worked on finishing the last of the reinforcements on the rabbit hutch and patched up a few of the walls inside the chicken coop, and while he got water from the well, and watered the herbs. The rye seemed to have survived the storm, too. It was a clear day, so he set up the paper racks to keep drying the pulp on them. Some of the sheets had cracked, but he’d find a way to make it work somehow.

It was nearly mid-morning and he was just starting to twist some cord to bind the notebook with when he heard a small voice asking “So … what are you doing?”

He looked up. Rapunzel was standing there, still in the same pink dress as she’d been wearing when Jack dropped her off, her hair trailing all the way back to the little hut, across the mud and sticks on the ground.

“Cord,” Hiccup said, holding up his end as best he could, while the other end was still tied to the stick stuck into the ground a little way away.

Rapunzel looked around her feet, then seemed to decide there was no place better than any other and sat down, tucking her knees up and resting her chin on them.

“Just like making wicks,” she said.

Hiccup looked up, a little surprised. “You make candles?”

Rapunzel shrugged. “Well,” she said, with a little smile at the ground, “I guess I did a lot of things. Mother wasn’t home very much, so …”

“Mm,” Hiccup said. He finished twisting the cord and pulled it off either end of the sticks, holding it up to check that it wasn’t going to unravel.

Hm. It was probably a bit short. He’d have to try again.

He looked up at Rapunzel. “Hey …” he held out the cord to her. “You, uh. You’re hair’s getting …”

Rapunzel looked back. “Oh! You’re right, I didn’t really think of that …” her voice trailed off partway through the sentence, as if she was deciding against speaking partway through.

“It’s a bit harder to keep the woods clean than a tower floor,” Hiccup said.

Rapunzel giggled. Pascal climbed down her arm so that he was out of the way of her hands as she started to arrange her hair.

Behind her, Toothless finally emerged from the hut, yawned and stretched, and started to pad off into the woods, scaly tail flicking behind him. Rapunzel watched him go.

“He’ll be back,” Hiccup said. “He’s just going hunting. Did you sleep?”

“A little,” Rapunzel said.

Then her stomach made a noise and her face, without changing expression, went a deep pink colour.

Hiccup stood up. “I guess it’s breakfast time,” he said.

“Sorry!” Rapunzel said. “I don’t mean to be a bother!”

Hiccup waved his hand. “It’s fine. I mean, I didn’t eat anything either, since you were asleep in the hut …”

Rapunzel’s flush deepened. “Oh … sorry …”

Hiccup hastily tried to backtrack. “It’s not your fault! I just meant that I won’t be going out of my way to make breakfast for you now, because I’ll be making it for both of us …” He pushed his hair back. “How about I just stop talking and go cook.”

“Oh, no, that’s not what I mean, either!” Rapunzel said, standing up quickly to follow him into the hut.

Rapunzel insisted on walking around behind Hiccup while he worked on the food, no matter how many times he told her to sit down, he had it under control. Really, there wasn’t anything for her to do. How many people did it take to make eggs?

Finally, he put the plates down on the table. It was a bit of a struggle to find enough eating utensils for both of them, but he still had an old, split, wooden plate he had been meaning to take to the shed and use there, and he could just make an egg sandwich instead of using utensils.

That was another thing for the list, he supposed. Ever since he met Jack, that list just seemed to be growing longer and longer. Well, he could do that after breakfast — he needed to go to the shed for the new cord anyway.

“Thanks,” Rapunzel said.

“Hm? Oh … you’re welcome.”

“These are from the chickens?”

Oh! Chickens! He should collect the eggs before he went to the shed.

“Yes,” he said, suddenly realising that he hadn’t actually answered the question. “Sorry — my mind was somewhere else.”

“No, it’s fine,” Rapunzel said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt…”

“You weren’t,” Hiccup said. “I’m just … there’s a lot to get done, and I’m trying to remember it all.”

“I understand,” she said. She fiddled with the eggs. “I … I’m really putting you out, I know. Maybe I shouldn’t have …”

“No,” Hiccup said quickly. “You did the right thing. Gothel is … was …” He ran a hand through his hair. What was he saying? He knew nothing about Mother Gothel, except that Rapunzel probably should have left her a long time ago. But he couldn’t say that. What right had he? “I, uh … not saying that my life is anything like yours, but I left home, too. And came to live out here. I didn’t know much about Gothel, but I think it’s better that you didn’t stay. So don’t worry about troubling me, alright? I’m just … bad at people. It’s not because you did the wrong thing. It’s just … me. And I understand that sometimes you just … have to leave.”

Pascal was giving him a Look. Even on a face that small, the message was clear — Pascal had just learned that there was someone awkward than Rapunzel in the world and wasn’t impressed.

“Alright,” Rapunzel said, though she didn’t sound at all certain.

Hiccup sighed, and tried to finish his eggs quickly. He thought about pushing the plate away and going outside, but that would only make Rapunzel feel worse.

He tried to think back the the time after he’d just left Berk. What had he done? Wanted to do? What had helped him?

“Candles?” he asked.

Rapunzel looked up at him, and he realised that hadn’t really been a question.

“Yes, I made candles,” she said, before he could correct himself.

“Anything, uh … anything else?”

“Baking,” Rapunzel said, and bit her lip as if thinking. “I did a lot of cleaning … some pottery …” She looked around. “Nothing else that’s really, you know. Useful. Just reading. I played chess with Pascal.”

Pascal croaked assent.

Hiccup nodded, and decided not to ask who won more often. “That … uh, that’s more than useful enough,” he said. “Can you … I mean, what do you need to make candles? I have bees, is that …?”

“Perfect,” Rapunzel said quickly.

“And uh … plates, I guess?” Hiccup said. “Now that …” he stopped. “Well, I mean, I still only have one set,” he mumbled. “And if you’re staying. And Jack might come more often. And I suppose Merida said she might …” His stomach turned at the thought. He was just now realising that he was likely to have _guests_. “I could carve them,” he said quickly. “It’s not like I can’t, but uh, if you wanted something to do?”

“Sure,” Rapunzel said quickly. “I’d love to. But I don’t really know a lot about carving.”

“That’s fine. I’ll give you a lesson.” Hiccup stood up and went to the cupboard. He pulled a cloth-wrapped parcel down. “I, uh. Here’s the beeswax I’ve collected. I’ll make you some wicks while I’m making cords. Let me know if you need anything else?”

Rapunzel nodded. “I think I’ll be fine. Is there a pot I should use?”

“The one in the bottom cupboard is for wax and … whatever else. The one next to the plates is for food,” Hiccup said. “They’re not much, but they don’t leak. You can build a fire?”

Rapunzel nodded. “At least … I can build one in a hearth and an oven.”

“That’s all I have, so that’s fine.”

The conversation stopped. Hiccup finished his eggs, and finally the plate was empty and he could leave. “I’m, uh. I’ve got to finish that cord, so I can keep fixing the hutch and the coop.” He stopped suddenly. Maybe that would be more Rapunzel’s style.

“Actually. Do you want to come outside when you’ve finished breakfast?” he asked. “You should come meet the rabbits.”

And for the first time since they’d woken up that morning, Rapunzel looked excited.


	29. Led Astray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never thought you'd see an AU where Merida is the mature and responsible one, did you?

Jack hung out in the woods near Dunbroch Castle, trying not to remember that he’d been quite close to here when that storm had hit. It wasn’t the number of other people that were concerned about the storm that was bothering him — though that certainly made it easier for him to convince Hiccup and the others to help him investigate without admitting just how worried it had him.

It was mercifully soon when he heard Merida’s horse. Jack didn’t know the name of the breed of Dunbroch horses. Merida had told him before, but he’d never remembered it. He just knew they were big, and they had tufts of hair over their hooves, and he could always hear them coming.

One of her targets was hanging on the tree next to him. He froze a picture in ice onto the target. Nothing fancy, just a face with spiky hair and an arrow pointing to his hiding place. She was out for archery practice, and he had no interest in ending up like Hiccup by jumping out from a tree while she was looking for shooting targets.

The target swung down, he heard the release and land of an arrow, and then a surprised. “What the … Jack?”, and the hooves slowed to a stop.

He dropped from his tree and walked towards her, holding up his hands. “Sorry, Princess. You’ve had a bit of a habit of shooting people, and I don’t bounce back as well as Hiccup does.”

Merida rolled her eyes. “Sure,” she said. “Not because you’re a showoff at all — I get it. So what’d’you need?”

“Actually, I was hoping you might be able to come visit Hiccup with me.”

Merida paused in mid-dismount, and looked at him. “Visit?” she asked, then hopped to the ground.

Jack nodded. “Yeah. Visit. Like, going to see someone for a brief period of time, often a friend or close acquaintance.”

“Don’t be clever. Did Hiccup ask you to come?”

“What?” Jack asked. Did she think they were planning something? Didn’t she trust him, after all these years? “No, I …”

“Then I’ll not be going,” Merida said, folding her arms.

Jack frowned. This was not how he had expected this conversation to go. “What do you mean?”

“Frost, I like you. You keep the boys entertained and somehow they seem to have more fun with less damage when you’re around. I know what my mother thinks of spirits, and I know that you don’t like that she thinks of you like that, but I’m still making an exception for you. But have you met Hiccup? The poor boy came to the castle frightened as a lamb! Worse than when … I mean, even I can tell he doesn’t like being sprung on. So I’ll not be going uninvited. You push people too much, Frost.” She put a hand on the front of her horse’s saddle as if she was going to mount up again and leave.

“Um,” Jack said. “Oops, then?”

Merida’s eyes narrowed and she turned to him again. “Oops?”

Jack sighed. “I may have dropped a guest in on him the night before last,” he said.

“What sort of guest?”

“I … did I ever tell you about Punzie?”

Merida shook her head, and turned to Jack with her arms folded across her chest. “Start talking.”

Jack hesitated, then sighed. He was in it now — but then, he’d known he was in it when he’d left Rapunzel with Hiccup.

“Punzie … Punzie’s another friend of mine. Her real name is Rapunzel, but you know me and long names. She lived with — was stolen by — one of the fairies. I used to visit her in the tower.”

“Alright. Why?”

“She needed a friend,” Jack said, trying to shrug like he was offended she’d asked such an obvious question.

“And you’re a right collector of those, aren’t you, Frost?”

“Long story short, this fairy? Not the nicest of the bunch. And finally, last night Punzie asked me to get her out of the tower. I didn’t have anywhere else to take her, so I brought her to Hiccup.”

“Not to the castle?” Merida asked. “Mother would have …”

“Asked a lot of questions,” Jack finished the sentence for her. “And she and Hiccup know each other. I mean, I brought him to visit her once or twice. He’s just familiar, OK? And she’s as nervous as he is about new things. I thought it’d be better that way.”

“And you didn’t mention any of this to Hiccup before you did it, of course,” Merida said, pressing one hand to her face.

“I didn’t exactly have enough time,” Jack said. “The leaving the tower part was a little … unplanned.”

Merida sighed. “Alright. I’ll come with you. But I’ll have to let them know at the castle, or Mother will never let me out of doors again.”

“Fine,” Jack said.

“Wait here for me,” Merida said, mounting the horse and grumbling, “You’ve probably left a proper mess.”

She pushed Angus to a gallop back towards the castle.

Jack leaned against a tree with his staff. He probably had, at that. It was what he seemed to do.

***

Merida rode back to Castle Dunbroch at a fair clip, cursing under her breath as she went. She liked Jack, really she did, and she even thought he could be a bit of fun on occasion, but that didn’t mean she’d wish him on someone else. She knew how to say no when he got too pushy. Hiccup had that … cat, or whatever it was … of his, but Jack seemed to have the one set of traits that a pet attack beast wouldn’t really protect him from.

“Mum?” she shouted, as she made her way through the castle halls, to Elinor’s usual haunts. “Mum?”

“In here, dear,” Elinor said, from one of the rooms where she liked to sit and look out the window as she drew up household budget plans, or sewed, or wrote the hundreds of letters her job seemed to require. Merida always found it hard to recall who they all went to.

“Sorry for yelling, Mum,” she said. “I need to talk to you.”

“Certainly, dear,” Elinor said, putting her pen down in the little holder next to the inkwell. She turned to her daughter and put her hands in her lap, giving Merida her full attention.

Merida took a deep breath. “I know this is short notice, but I won’t be back till late this evening. Maybe tomorrow morning, at the latest.”

Elinor’s brow furrowed. “Why, dear?”

“It’s Hiccup,” Merida said. “J…” she hesitated. No — the truth was best. “Jack asked me to go visit him, and it sounds like he might need it. It’s nothing serious. Just a mutual friend that might need a bit of extra help.”

Elinor’s lips pressed together. Merida’s heart sank.

“Mum, Hiccup might …”

“It’s not Hiccup,” Elinor said. “You can go. Your friend obviously needs you. It’s Jack.”

“Frost?” Merida asked. “Mum …”

“He’s something from the forest, dear,” Elinor said. “Fairy or not. He’s been kind so far — though that’s a loose term considering that he spends most of his time with the boys — but I worry.”

“You don’t trust him,” Merida said.

“Do you, dear?”

It had been a long time since their last big fight, but Merida’s hackles still went up until she realised that her mother’s tone hadn’t been accusation or disapproval. She thought for a second. “Not … well, yes, but only mostly. About Hiccup and their friend, at least. His heart’s in the right spot.”

Elinor nodded thoughtfully. “Alright,” she said. “Then, just be careful, dear, and tell me if something goes wrong, won’t you?”

Merida walked over and gave her mother a hug, and a kiss on each cheek. “I’ll be back before you know it,” she said.

“I’m your mother,” Elinor said with a smile. “I doubt that.”


	30. Checking In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendship Activate!

Hiccup had expected Jack to show up again soon. Merida, though, was a surprise.

He and Rapunzel had set about their morning without much discussion. Rapunzel was melting beeswax outside to dip candles. Her first batch was done and cooling, and she was nearly ready to start the second. Hiccup had stacked away his paper and had finally finished the hutch and coop, and was starting to cut potatoes into sections, one eye each, so that he could dry them for planting at the end of winter.

Both he and Rapunzel looked up as Jack and Merida approached. Rapunzel’s face immediately lightened, and she shouted, “Jack!”

Then, she looked over at Merida, and her expression turned … not quite apprehensive. Just wary, perhaps.

“Hi,” Jack greeted them. “I brought a friend. Punzie, meet Merida.”

“Merida?” Rapunzel asked. “I’m Rapunzel … Jack just calls me Punzie because …”

“You all know I’m too lazy for that many syllables,” Jack said nonchalantly, leaning on his staff.

“Pleased to meet you,” Merida said, as she dismounted from her horse. “Jack’s told me a bit about you, but not much, I promise. And about your little … uh, Pascal.”

Pascal had given Merida a very dark look. Jack chuckled. Hiccup suspected Merida might have gotten a very sticky tongue to the face if she had said the word ‘lizard’.

Rapunzel blushed. “Well, he’s probably told you most of it, then — there really isn’t that much.”

Merida plopped herself down on the ground next to the pot of wax. “Whatcha doing? Mind if I call you Punzie, too?”

Rapunzel shook her head. “N- no, I guess that’s OK. I’m just making candles…”

Rapunzel sat down more carefully, keeping her dress smooth, and hurriedly started to stir the wax, explaining nervously about stopping it from sticking to the bottom and burning.

Hiccup realised that Jack was standing next to him now, still leaning on that staff.

“Let’s have a bonfire,” Jack said.

“That’s a terrible idea,” Hiccup told him. “Pitch will…”

“He already knows where you are,” Jack said. “It’s not a matter of hiding from him.”

Hiccup pushed his hair back, and leaned a little on Toothless who, in Grimalkin form, was pressed up against his leg. “Well, I only refused to return one of his servants that he thinks I stole. It’s not like he’s pissed off at me or anything.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jack said, slapping him on the back. “How about over there? Is that far enough from everything?”

Hiccup looked where he pointed. “If we keep it small,” he said, a little doubtfully. The clearing wasn’t that large, and his hut, shed, hutch and coop took up most of it. The area Jack pointed to was the spot he kept clear for larger building projects. “It could work.”

“Great!” Jack slapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, Merida, Punzie! We’re going to collect wood! Don’t steal Hiccup’s rabbits while we’re gone!”

“Punzie’s too worried about her wax to go anywhere!” Merida shouted back.

“Well, you wouldn’t want to clean burned wax off Hiccup’s pot either,” Rapunzel said.

Jack grinned. Good. He knew Merida and Rapunzel would get along.

***

As Jack and Hiccup left, Merida pulled one of Rapunzel’s wicks off the pile and started to fiddle with it. “So, Punzie, Frost tells me that you’ve only been here a couple of days. If he’d given me a bit more time, I’d have tried to bring a pie or something!”

Rapunzel shrugged. “Only two days,” she said.

“And … aw, hell, I’m not me mum, I’m not good at being subtle,” Merida said, tossing her hair. “You’re doing alright, yeah?”

“I’m … fine …” Rapunzel said, pausing in her stirring to cross one arm over her chest and rub her opposite shoulder. She made a little shrugging motion, looking down at the wax pot.

“I met Hiccup a couple times at the castle. He’s a skittish wee thing, isn’t he?” Merida said, with a grin. It drew a little laugh from Rapunzel, but only a small and weak one. Merida guessed it was more nerves than humour.

Merida glanced over to Pascal and found that she was having a staring contest with the small … reptile? It appeared to be sizing her up. Somehow it was more intimidating than being eyeballed by one of the big Clydesdales.

Merida was about to say something else, but Rapunzel interrupted to say, quietly, “He’s very … quiet. We haven’t talked much. But I think he’s doing his best to make me feel comfortable. I feel bad that I just sort of dropped in on him.”

“Frost dropped you in on him,” Merida corrected.

Rapunzel didn’t argue, but Merida could tell she was just trying to avoid an argument. She gave Rapunzel an encouraging smile instead. “You know, Jack’s forever coming around to the castle and causing trouble.”

Rapunzel looked up at that. “The … castle? Castle Dunbroch?”

“That’s us! He’s mentioned us?”

“He tells me stories sometimes, of the three boys.”

“My brothers.”

“Oh, really? They sound …” She trailed off.

“Like a handful and then some,” Merida finished for her. “They’re right terrors and if it wasn’t that they’re princes, I’m sure half the castle staff would have tossed them out on their ears long ago.”

Rapunzel looked almost relieved. “From what Jack says about them … he seems to enjoy himself, at least.”

“Right,” Merida said. “Because he’s as bad as the three of them, he’s just older.”

“Do you know what he does, out in the woods?” Rapunzel asked suddenly.

Merida shook her head. “Probably causes trouble somewhere. He won’t say.”

“He told me once. I think he only likes to tell stories about the trouble he gets into. But once, when we were talking, he told me about a child who got lost in the woods. Jack took him to … someone else, someone who lives near the edge of the woods, and that person took the child home. He only told me once, because I sort of insisted … but I think he does it a lot.”

Merida had to stop and think about that. But she was right — that did seem like Jack. She nodded. “Right.”

“He’s not a bad person.”

“I didn’t say he was! Just that he doesn’t think much when he tries to help. Take the boys. When he’s there, they stay out of the way and only cause trouble for each other. But he’s taught them how to move quietly and I think how to pick locks and goodness knows what else. So …” She made a non-committal motion, and noticed that Pascal had climbed down off Rapunzel’s shoulder and was watching the fire.

“Well …” Rapunzel said.

“He wants to help,” Merida said. “I bet he’s put you here with Hiccup because he thinks you two will get on. Probably thinks you needed a familiar face and Hiccup was lonely and needed the company.”

Rapunzel nodded.

“But he didn’t ask either of you first. So … are you OK with that?” Merida asked.

“Am I …?”

“Sure. Listen — you gotta be sure you don’t just let Frost push you around. He doesn’t mean to do it, but he will if you let him.”

Rapunzel gave the pot a slow stir and said, “It’s … not like he had many options.”

Merida fidgeted a little. This was getting very close to beyond her depth. “It’s … good that you’ve found ways to entertain yourself, though,” she said. “With the candles, and such.”

“I miss my books,” Rapunzel said. “I should have brought my painting things with me. I told Jack I didn’t want any of it …” She cut herself off.

But Merida brightened. Now _that_ , she could help with! “Hey, you’re talking to a Princess!” she said. “I’ll lay my sticky fingers on some new books and paints for you, no trouble! What do you like to read?”

“Really?” Rapunzel asked, brightening. “Um. Anything, really … Mother only had a few books, so I read them pretty thoroughly …”

“Sure! I’ll ask Mum about the books. Easy as rabbit dinner.”

“I’ll paint you something,” Rapunzel offered quickly, leaning forward over the pot and dropping the stirring paddle.

Merida laughed. “I’d love to see it!”

Rapunzel pulled up the wicks. “I’d better start …”

“Teach me?” Merida asked, pointing to the pot of wax. “I’ll be no good at it, but I’ll get all fidgety if I just sit here doing nothing.”

Rapunzel nodded, and handed over a bundle of wicks.

***

Hiccup led Jack a little way away from the clearing, looking around the forest floor. Jack watched him, as he wandered between falling trees, kicking them until one made a hollow _thunk_. Hiccup shifted the axe in his hand, and finally looked up at Jack.

“I’ll take care of kindling,” Jack said, giving Hiccup a grin. “I think twigs and leaves is about my limit.”

“You seem to do well with that stick,” Hiccup nodded at the staff. “It’s a fair size.”

“You’re not allowed to burn it,” Jack said, trying to return the joking tone, but feeling his fingers grip the staff tighter.

Hiccup smirked. “But it’s the perfect shape! Kidding, kidding.”

“You better be.”

“So how are you getting on with Punzie?” Jack asked.

“Fine, I think. You’d better ask her about that.”

“Later, sure,” Jack said. “But I didn’t mean to ask you about her. I’m asking you about you, you know?”

“It’s fine,” Hiccup said. “She needed somewhere to go, right?”

Jack sighed.

Hiccup shrugged. “She’s good at candles. Candles are helpful.”

Jack stopped asking. Hiccup was obviously avoiding the question, and Jack wasn’t good at knowing when to stop pushing, so he decided he’d just get out while he was ahead.

“So, sticks,” Jack said instead, nudging one with his foot.

“Anything smaller than your finger. And leaves. Dry as possible.”

“Got it,” Jack said, touching the staff to his forehead. He started to strip twigs off the fallen tree, and kick over leaves to collect them.

Hiccup shifted the axe in his hand and grabbed a branch stump to hold on to while he worked to cut off a piece of the big log. Jack paused to watch him for a second as he worked.

The woods were silent for a moment, except for Hiccup’s axe, and the rustle as Jack picked up twigs and leaves. It was nice. Too bad silence had always made Jack itchy.

“Seriously, though,” he said. “You’re OK with Rapunzel staying with you?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Hiccup said absently. “Wish I’d had a little more time to prepare. But I wish a lot of things.”

“Do I get to know what they are?” Jack asked.

Hiccup looked up, confused. “What?”

“Just asking,” Jack said, holding up the arm that wasn’t full of twigs defensively. “But you can’t just mention something like that and expect me not to be curious.”

Hiccup appeared to think for a second. Jack at first thought he was taking a break from chopping to catch his breath, but Hiccup wasn’t even breathing heavily.

Damn.

“I wish Toothless would stop sleeping on my herb garden,” he said, finally.

Jack laughed at that image. “You could probably tell him not to.”

Hiccup shrugged, and went back to chopping. “Ah, he’d only find something worse. He’s creative like that.”

“Probably enjoying the freedom.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said quietly. “I understand that.” Almost unconsciously, he let go of the branch stump for a moment and reached over to scratch Toothless. Jack was starting to suspect that Hiccup never needed to actually look to know where Toothless was.

Hiccup managed to break the chunk off the stump and threw it aside to start on the next part.

“It’s probably a good thing you brought Merida,” Hiccup said.

“Hm?” Jack asked.

Hiccup gave him a wry grin. “What, do I look like the sort of person who knows how to start a conversation? I don’t talk, I babble. You and Merida can at least hold a conversation like, you know, normal people.”

Jack snorted. “You’re doing fine so far,” he said. “Besides, what made you think that I talk like a normal person?”

“Of the two of us, which has other friends capable of human speech?” Hiccup pointed out.

“Hey, you know all my friends now,” Jack said.

“What about Tooth?”

Jack looked down at Toothless, before he realised what Hiccup had asked.

“T — what do you mean, what about Tooth?”

“When we were talking to Aster. He told you not to introduce me to Tooth.”

“Oh,” Jack said. “Tooth is …” he shrugged. “Not quite a friend. It’s complicated.”

“So why did you want to introduce us?” Hiccup pressed. “When Aster told you not to, you sounded … disappointed.”

“Oh,” Jack said. “Guess I was just getting overexcited.”

Hiccup shrugged, and apparently deciding to let Jack avoid the subject. “Well, alright, then. Guess it was a good thing in the end. If we’d gone to Tooth first, we wouldn’t have gotten to Rapunzel before Gothel showed up.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Lucky us, right?”

“Sure,” Hiccup said and tossed another piece of wood on the pile. Jack supposed it was because he was dead that he still hadn’t broken a sweat or started to breathe heavily.

But still. Damn.

Jack shifted the pile of sticks in his arm. It wasn’t heavy, exactly, but it was certainly getting bulky and difficult to hold.

“You go drop those off,” Hiccup said.

“You sure?”

“I’m only doing it so I can make you carry more things afterwards.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back in a bit,” Jack said.

“Before you go,” Hiccup said.

“Hm?”

“You know Rapunzel better. You’ll come back sometimes to talk to her, right?”

Jack made a face like he was offended by the question. “No, I’m going to make friends with her and then just leave her with you. Of course I’m coming back to visit!”

“Never know with you, right?”

“Careful,” Jack said. “If I start being too nice to you, I’ll ruin my reputation.” He left with the sticks, waving goodbye to Toothless. As he left, he heard Hiccup go back to chopping.


	31. Double Checking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonfires make every long conversation scene better!

It was just after sunset, and the bonfire was just starting to catch properly. They’d nearly finished the bags of pastries and the nuts Jack had brought, and the fire was still too hot to put the little chicken and rabbit and vegetable parcels into the coals. Hiccup wasn’t entirely sure how everything was going to turn out — he had only just started to experiment with the herbs in his garden. In Berk, he’d have had some idea. But at the moment, he’d only just started to grow herbs, so that meant everything he had was what he could replant or grow from cuttings. It didn’t make for a large variety.

Rapunzel knew cooking, but she was better at sweets, and hadn’t cooked anything over hot coals before. Merida knew about cooking over an open fire, but didn’t usually bother with anything, in her words, “fancy”, which Hiccup took to mean beyond a spit-roast. Jack didn’t have the first clue what he was doing but that didn’t stop him from trying to offer suggestions anyway.

At least if it didn’t taste good, it would still be an interesting experience.

Hiccup and Merida were sitting on one side of the fire while Jack and Merida had a quiet conversation on the other. Hiccup was resting his back against a curled-up Toothless, and Merida had just gotten up to move some of the logs around and make the fire die down a bit quicker so they could start cooking. He was surprised to find that he was relaxed. Usually he hated having nothing to do with his hands, but sitting around the fire like this was … well, it wasn’t a word that came to his mind often, but it was cosy.

“Mum says you should come back to the castle sometime,” Merida said to Hiccup, getting back from poking at the fire a little.

“Thanks,” Hiccup said, leaning back against Toothless’s big flank, the Grimalkin curled around him. “Even if I’m in league with spirits?”

Merida made a little wobbling motion with the hand that wasn’t holding her fire-poking stick. “She’s flexible on the subject.”

“No more word about those stories?”

“Nothing. But she promised to say if she came up with anything.”

Hiccup shrugged. The fire was warm on his skin, but he shuffled a little further away instead of rolling up his sleeves.

Merida glanced at him. “Punzie seems to be enjoying herself.”

Hiccup grinned at her. “No thanks to me, I’m sure. If I’d known putting people to work would make me friends, I’d have started much sooner.”

Merida gave him a shove. “And none of that noise from you. You’re downright fun when you stop being such a ninny.” She glanced behind Hiccup. “You and your beastie backup.”

Toothless opened one eye, then closed it again.

“Can I pat him?” Merida asked.

“His decision,” Hiccup said, shrugging.

Merida reached out a hand, fingers curled, slowly and gently. Toothless opened his big green eye at her again. She paused.

“There you go,” Merida said, in the tone Hiccup had heard her use on her horse before. “We gonna be friends, beastie?”

Toothless made a low noise in his throat, then tilted his head forward and gave her hand a big lick. Merida yelped in surprise, then giggled as she wiped her hand off on her dress. “Hiccup’s right — you’re just a big contrary lunk aren’t you?”

Toothless rested his scaly head on his paws and made a contented _mlep_ noise.

Merida gave him a scratch behind the ears, and he started to purr, rumbling against Hiccup’s back.

“His scales feel so strange,” Merida said.

“I guess,” Hiccup said. He reached behind to give Toothless’s back a scratch, too. “Glad you’ve decided to make friends, too, bud,” he said.

“Ah, he’s just a good judge of character,” Merida said, nudging Hiccup again. “You said he ran away from Pitch, so he must be.”

Hiccup chuckled. “Well, ‘better than Pitch’ isn’t a very high bar to set now, is it?”

Merida rolled her eyes. “Cheery, ain’t you?”

“Tonight? Yeah,” Hiccup said, getting comfortable against Toothless again and watching the fire.

***

Across the other side of the fire from them, Jack and Rapunzel were sharing the last few of the pastries, since Hiccup didn’t like them and Merida had declared that two was enough for her. Pascal had fallen asleep on Rapunzel’s lap, and had a small sprinkling of sugar and pastry crumbs on him, despite Rapunzel’s best efforts.

Jack picked another one out of the bag next to his feet.

“Sho, Punzhie,” he said, around the mouthful of sweet pastry and filling. “How’s life in the hut?”

Rapunzel wrapped her arm across her chest. “Oh, well … you know …”

“He’s not too grumpy, is he?”

Rapunzel shook her head. “It’s … fine.”

Jack looked over with a frown. “Are you sure? Everything OK, Punzie?”

Rapunzel shrugged. “I’m just … still getting used to things, I guess,” she said, with a nervous smile.

“It’s only been a couple of days,” Jack said. “I’m sure that’s normal.”

“Mm,” Rapunzel said.

“Hey,” Jack said. “Don’t look like that. We’re having a bonfire — it’s supposed to be fun!”

“I know,” Rapunzel said, still rubbing her shoulder with her hand. “I just … do you think she’s looking for me, Jack?”

Jack hesitated, but tried to cover it up with a cheerfully puzzled expression. “What do you mean?”

“Mother,” Rapunzel said. “Do … do you think she’s looking for me?”

“Hey,” Jack said. “We’re clean on the other side of the forest from that tower. Even if she looks, she’s never going to find you.”

“Yeah,” Rapunzel said, but she didn’t sound convinced.

“I promise —”

“It’s not that,” Rapunzel said quickly. “I … well, it is a bit. But I’m not sure I don’t _want_ her to catch me.”

“Punzie,” Jack said quietly. “Listen … the way she treated you …”

“I …” Rapunzel hesitated. “That’s not … Never mind.”

Jack waited a few moments, then said, “Don’t feel guilty about her, Punzie. She deserves far worse than anything you could ever do to her.”

Rapunzel looked up, and Jack realised he’d sounded a bit too serious. He tried a grin. “Sorry. Guess I’ve just gotten a bit protective over the years.”

“Yeah …” Rapunzel said, again. She took a breath. “You have, Jack.”

Jack could feel his heart squeeze in his chest. Oh. Oh, she was going to ask him _right now_.

“You told me there were a lot of things that you’d tell me later,” Rapunzel said. “When is later, Jack?”

“Does it have to be right now?” Jack asked, gesturing to the bonfire. “We’re supposed to be …”

“Having fun,” Rapunzel finished, in a small, resigned voice. “I know. Sorry. I guess I just thought …”

“Well,” Jack cut her off. “You’re not going to be having fun till I say something, are you?”

Rapunzel somehow managed to look even more guilty. Jack sighed. “I know I promised I’d tell you a lot of things if you ever left that tower and had to worry about them yourself.”

A little hope started to enter Rapunzel’s face. Jack looked down at the pastry in his hand, to stop his own face screwing up. “Sorry, Punzie,” he said quietly. “Guess I was kinda looking for an excuse.”

“It’s … fine,” Rapunzel said.

“It’s not,” Jack said. “I made a promise — I shouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t willing to do it.” He sighed. “Alright. Tell you what. I could say a lot of things now, but they’d ruin the party and then Hiccup would never forgive me.” He glanced across the fire. Hiccup was reclining against Toothless, and chatting to Merida. He had a little smile on his face, and Jack couldn’t help feeling a sense of relief. He’d been starting to think that he might never get Hiccup to relax again. Merida was right. He had been pretty inconsiderate to Hiccup recently. But seeing Hiccup smiling with a new friend … it was comforting. Maybe he hadn’t totally screwed up after all.

He realised he’d forgotten what he was going to say. “Uh … so,” he continued, trying to fit the sentence back together in his head. “No answers tonight. But I’ll come by in a few days, and then you can ask me anything. Deal?”

“Deal,” Rapunzel said, holding out her hand.

Jack shook hands on it. “Promise, Punzie,” he said. “I’ll answer all your questions soon.”

Rapunzel looked at the fire for a little longer, then said, “Jack … can we move a bit closer? I’m cold.”

Jack frowned. It wasn’t that late in the season, and she was wearing one of Hiccup’s travelling cloaks, with sleeves so long they hid her hands. “Are you feeling alright?” he asked.

Rapunzel shook her head. “I … don’t know what’s wrong with me, Jack. I can’t seem to get warm, and every time I eat … it’s good food, but I just feel … Is it nerves?” she buried her head in her arms.

Jack sighed, and put a hand on her back. “You’re gonna be OK, Punzie,” he said. “It’s fairy food.”

“From …”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “From Gothel.”

“What happens if you eat fairy food?” Rapunzel asked.

“Well, it’s complicated,” Jack said. “Fairies are big on hospitality, and if you eat someone’s food, you’re accepting their hospitality. Technically you left without telling Gothel, so that’s breaking the pact.”

“So it’s making me cold?”

“It’s like … retribution. You broke hospitality, so other food tastes bad and makes you sick, and you can’t get warm at someone else’s hearth,” Jack gestured to the bonfire.

Rapunzel put her head back on her arms and said, “I just want it to go away.”

“It will,” Jack said. “It’s … the other reason why I brought you to Hiccup, partially.” He brushed a hand through his hair. The reason he hadn’t wanted to think about, or bother the others with. “He’s about as territorial as a fairy, and you’ve accepted his hospitality now. It’d go a bit quicker if you were to swear fealty to him or something, but he’d have to accept it, and it’d have to be a real oath.” He grinned apologetically. “Sorry, Punzie, I don’t think either of you could do that and really mean it. But the quicker you two become friends, the quicker the effects wear off.”

“I hate it,” Punzie said.

“Could be worse,” Jack said. “If you’d left without being given cause, or if you were a fairy yourself …” he trailed off. “I guess something in what Gothel did was bad enough that even fairy laws thought you were right to cut and run.”

Rapunzel just shuddered.

From the other side of the fire, Merida called. “Hey! What are you two consortin’ and conspirin’ about?”

“We’re going to steal all the food,” Jack shouted back. “So you better get ready, Princess.”

Merida laughed. “I fight me brothers for dinner every day. I could beat you with my eyes closed and not work up an appetite!”

“Oh, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeves,” Jack said.

“Toothless,” Hiccup said lazily. “Guard the food.”

Toothless made a deep, growling noise.

“Well,” Jack said.

Hiccup looked past the fire and grinned at him. “Gotcha there, don’t we?”

Jack folded his arms. “You’re just _trying_ to make sure nobody has fun,” he said.

“Yup,” Hiccup said, scratching Toothless. “That’s me.”

Merida made a face at Jack, wrinkling her nose, and then laughed. “Hey, this is supposed to be a group gathering. Everyone get on this side of the fire.”

Jack leaped high over the fire and landed next to Hiccup and Toothless. Toothless’s scaly tail lashed.

Jack chuckled. “Heh. Sorry, Toothless. Did I scare you?”

“Show-off,” Merida told him, and patted the ground next to her for Rapunzel to sit down. Rapunzel did, carrying Pascal, who had woken up from the movement and now looked rather grumpy, in one hand.

After a moment, Merida asked. “So, Hiccup, how come you’re the only one who gets a backrest?”

“Ask Toothless,” Hiccup said. Toothless curled up further around him, wrapping his tail around Hiccup’s waist and laying his paws down alongside Hiccup’s legs.

“I think your answer is because Toothless says so,” Jack said, and scratched Toothless on the back, where he could reach. “It’s fine, we’ll make you our friend yet.”

“He will,” Rapunzel warned Toothless. “He’s persistent like that.”

Jack tipped an imaginary hat. “And if I weren’t, this night would never have happened. So you’re welcome.”

Merida snorted. “Modest, Frost.”

“Always.”

Jack grinned, and Hiccup finally got up to scrape some of the wood aside and find some nice coals to cook their dinner.


	32. The Rumours are True

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, you got me. I got into this fandom specifically to pit all the snarky characters against each other.

Jack and Merida left quite late that night, Jack promising to make sure Merida got back to the castle safe. Rapunzel and Hiccup stayed out only long enough to make sure the last of the fire and embers were out, and then went to bed themselves.

The bonfire had used up most of the wood that Hiccup had stockpiled for the hearth and the oven. So, the next morning, while Rapunzel tended the garden, Hiccup went out to collect more wood. Toothless was somewhere nearby hunting. Hiccup thought of what Jack had said — that if there were any trouble, Toothless would be there no matter what else he was doing. For the first time, Hiccup found he was wondering where exactly Toothless was, and what exactly he did while he was out.

He had amassed a small pile of wood and was starting to debate whether he wanted to cut a few more pieces or take those back to the hut for splitting when Toothless padded through the trees towards him. He didn’t have the smug expression that usually accompanied the end of one of his hunts. He snuck up to Hiccup’s leg and leaned his shoulder against him. Hiccup reached down to rest his hand between Toothless’s ears.

“Something go wrong, bud?” he asked.

“Nothing so bad as that,” Pitch said, from nearby, behind a tree. “Your friend was just feeling a little … skittish, it seems.”

“I wonder why,” Hiccup said, glad that he’d managed to suppress the little jump when Pitch had spoken.

Pitch stepped out a bit further into the light and leaned on the tree trunk. “How very sad. Your friend and I go way back. Are you going to begrudge me a visit?”

“He might,” Hiccup said. “But I couldn’t stop you even if I wanted to, right?”

“You never know till you try,” Pitch said.

“Yeah, _that_ doesn’t sound like a trap at all.” It would only risk offending one of the most powerful and least forgiving fairies in the woods. Sure. Good plan. Hiccup curled his fingers a little on Toothless’s head, both for his sake and for Toothless’s. “What are you here for, then?”

“I just came to … remind you that the offer still stands. You and the Grimalkin.”

“Thanks,” Hiccup said. “If that’s all, you can go now.”

“Oh, now, please,” Pitch said, clearly attempting to sound hurt. “I’ve never done anything to you, have I? Not to you, or to your hut, or to your companion.” He nodded at Toothless. “Or your new guest. Why, I’ll bet she doesn’t know I’ve ever been here. Right?”

Hiccup stayed silent, meeting Pitch’s eyes. That didn’t sound like a question he should answer.

“And, forgive me for assuming, but you don’t have any particular connection to North or his bunch, either.”

And he _definitely_ shouldn’t answer that one. Hiccup folded his arms and waited for Pitch to keep talking.

“That’s a no, then,” Pitch said. “Don’t worry, I understand. It’s hard enough living alone out here without having to worry about —” he waved his arms “— whose side is whose. And all that. You like your privacy, and that’s just fine. All I’m saying is that maybe you and your friends could use a little extra protection. I look after my own.” He tapped a finger against his lips as if he had just thought of something. “In fact, you might ask Jack sometime. He knows me a little better than he lets on. You’d trust him to tell you the truth … right?”

“What’s my name?” Hiccup asked.

Pitch looked for a moment as if Hiccup had started speaking a foreign language. “Wh — pardon?”

“What’s my name?” Hiccup asked again, calmly.

“I …” Pitch regained his composure. “You’re right. That’s terribly rude of me. I should have asked for it before trying to make a deal. I do apologise. I did not ask because I understand humans are skittish about giving their names, and I didn’t want to give insult. I see that my actions were, nevertheless, not courteous.” He held out a bony hand and half-bowed. “I am Pitch Black. Who do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

“Just someone who lives in the woods,” Hiccup said, folding his arms and not taking the hand. “And you’re wrong — I do have a personal reason to quarrel with you. Or, your people. Both.”

Alright, less strong than he’d wanted to sound. But still not technically a lie … if attacking Berk could be considered a personal reason at this point.

“Oh? Do tell,” Pitch said, withdrawing his hand.

“You’ve been watching me for a while,” Hiccup said. “Why don’t you figure that out? It’ll be a better use of your time than trying to get me to take this deal of yours.”

Pitch’s eyes narrowed. “Very well,” he said. “My apologies for interrupting you. I’ll allow you to continue your …” he glanced down at the wood pile. “Manual labour. Oh, and — just someone who lives in the woods — that was a very clever response. You can tell dear Jackie I said that, and put his mind to rest about you, if you like.”

Hiccup kept his arms folded until Pitch had done his disappearing trick into the woods. Maybe he should have asked Elinor for more details about Pitch after all.


	33. A Second Opinion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the characters learn when to call adultier adults.

Jack never usually visited Tooth twice in such a short time, but times called for an exception. He dropped down outside her garden path and walked up to the house, dodging the strings of teeth that hung from the arches. She opened the door before he knocked on it.

“Jack?” she asked.

“Hi, Tooth,” he said, ignoring how odd it sounded to be calling someone just ‘Tooth’ after getting used to ‘Toothless’.

“What are you doing here?”

“Come to ask a favour,” Jack said. “Sort of.”

“Come in,” Toothiana said, stepping aside and gesturing Jack into the house.

Jack stepped through the door. Her house was the same as always — some uncomfortable combination of a favourite aunt’s dining room and an ossuary. She poured both of them a cup of tea from a cooling pot on the stove, and as she sat down, her necklace of bones clinked against the brooches on her dress.

She returned with the cups and put them down on the table, with that blinding smile of hers. Jack always found that smile a bit unnerving. He knew that she either didn’t like him much or actively pitied him, so he didn’t know why she always smiled, especially so brightly. It might have just been that she liked to show off her teeth.

“A favour, then,” she said. “I’m not in North’s good graces, you know that. And you know I can’t do anything about Gothel …”

“Nothing like that,” Jack cut her off. “I’m just here for information.”

Tooth paused with her cup. “Information.” It was a statement rather than a question. “About what?”

“I need to know more about Pitch,” Jack said.

“I’ll tell you what I can,” Tooth said. “But if he should ever find out I told you…”

“I won’t tell a soul,” Jack promised. “He’ll never know you were the source.”

“Good,” Tooth said.

She sipped her tea, and Jack took the opportunity to say, “And in return?” With fairies, it was best to ask first. Tooth had never been particularly harsh with her prices, but it never paid to take anything for granted, with fairies.

Tooth gave him a sad smile. “Nothing for this one, Jack,” she said quietly.

He frowned. “That’s not like you.”

“Usually you come asking for things I can’t give you,” she said shortly. “But if this is about Pitch, I don’t plan to go out of my way to make things hard on you. We’re both neutral parties to this one.”

“Some of us more neutral than others,” Jack said darkly.

“Jack,” she said, cautioning but not really angry. “You came to _me_ for information.”

“I know, I know, sorry,” Jack said. “Please continue.”

“I’m only telling you because I know you don’t want to get caught up in this either,” Tooth said.

“Pitch is planning something, and he’s collecting his people. An army, I think,” Jack said.

Tooth nodded. “So you know that much.”

“It’s hard not to.”

She nodded. “And you’ve got some friends you’re keeping safe as well.”

“I’ve got some friends,” Jack said, and decided that, as long as it was Tooth, honesty was probably safe. “I’m not sure how safe I’ll be able to keep them.”

Tooth gave him a long, considering look.

“Sure, humility, I know, it’s out of character,” Jack said, trying to sound casual. “I’m already coming here for help, so there’s no point in pretending I’ve got things under control.”

Then, Tooth did something that he never expected from her. She reached over and put her hand on his, comfortingly, and opened her mouth. He looked up at her, completely off-guard. He had no idea what she could be about to say. She hesitated, and they locked eyes. Then something about his expression or his face must have caused her to think better of what she was doing, and she sat back in the chair, letting go of his hand, and picked up her cup again. “North isn’t sitting idly by either. I’ve heard that he’s bringing his people close, too.”

“It all seems a little bread and circuses,” he said, remembering his last visit, and trying to shake off the sudden, confused, slightly lonely feeling when she’d let go of his hand.

Tooth shrugged. “You’re the one who’s been trying to get into North’s parties. If you think they’re different than usual … ”

“He actually let me in last time. Something about giving people something to talk about.”

“Is it possible he used you as a distraction so he could talk to some of the other leaders in private?”

Jack had already thought of that, but he still had to pretend that his stomach hadn’t turned over remembering that he’d probably been used again. “Sure,” he said. “It’s possible.”

Tooth gave him another look like she’d seen right through him.

“What about that storm?” he pressed.

Tooth sighed. “That, I don’t know. I think it might be Pitch’s doing. He did work for the West Wind for a long time.”

“Maybe,” Jack said.

“I expect they’ll come to fighting soon,” Tooth said.

Jack folded his arms. He could have guessed that himself. “Anything else?”

Tooth gave Jack a look over the rim of her cup. “They’re after the neutral parties, too. North and Pitch have both sent me messengers. I don’t want to, but if I have to join a side, it’ll be North’s.”

He knew why she’d mentioned it — she wasn’t quite casual enough to hide that. “Yeah. Me, too,” he said. Even after all this time, she still had to double-check that he wasn’t going to side with Pitch.

There was a long and very awkward silence.

“Thanks,” Jack said, finishing his tea. “But if that’s all you can tell me, I’d better go.”

“That’s all,” Tooth said. “Except … you know that many of Pitch’s people take some kind of power from humans, don’t you?”

“I know,” Jack said.

“So if he’s looking to bring up his fighting strength, even if it’s not technically allowed …” Tooth said, and let the sentence stop there.

“Yeah.” She knew about the attacks on Berk, then. And that would explain them … even if it didn’t explain why Pitch was suddenly breaking the rules. Jack pushed himself up to his feet. “Thanks again.”

Tooth watched him as he left. He dodged the strings of teeth again as he left. Now that she’d said it, North’s plan seemed extremely obvious. Maybe he —

As he was about halfway down the path, Tooth opened the door again and called to him. “Jack?”

He turned. “What is it?”

“Just one more thing. Pitch never liked that North wields most of the power in this forest. I don’t know what happened that made him take action, but I have to assume that’s why.”

Jack waved thanks and continued down the path. He didn’t know what knowing Pitch’s motivation would do for him, but he appreciated it nevertheless.

Now all he had to do was steel himself and go keep his promise to Rapunzel.


	34. Anywhere But Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I resent any implications that I artificially fabricate my drama. All my drama is true-blue, home-grown, family-recipe drama, I’ll have you know.

The more Hiccup thought over that conversation with Pitch, the less he wanted to go out in the woods again.

He should have gotten more wood. He should have planned ahead, and stocked up while he was out there, so that he didn’t have to go out again. He wished he had a way to contact Jack.

But worst of all, an idea had occurred to him that he just plain didn’t want to think about. He had started to wonder if he should leave the hut.

He didn’t want to. The hut was more home to him than anywhere else he’d ever lived, even though it was in Pitch’s part of the woods. And besides, leaving would mean moving away from Berk. He didn’t know why he cared so much about that. Surely he ought to care more about the animals he’d raised and cared for, or the house he had spent a little over five years in now, or all the things he’d built there. But there it was.

  
  


***

  
  


Rapunzel was off getting water with Toothless when Jack arrived. Hiccup grabbed him as soon as he arrived. They needed to talk, before Rapunzel got back.

“Jack! I’ve been waiting for you!”

Jack gave an impish grin. “Aw, you _do_ care.”

“Not the time,” Hiccup said. “Pitch came again.”

Jack turned immediately serious — or as serious as Jack ever turned. “What did he say?”

“He offered me the same deal, again” Hiccup said.

“You sent him off, though,” Jack said. His tone said it was a statement, but his guarded expression said it was a question.

“Of course,” Hiccup said. “May have even had a few choice words for him. Or tried to.”

“Good,” Jack said savagely.

“But he mentioned that he knows about Rapunzel.”

“Not good,” Jack said, less savagely.

“No. She’s with Toothless at the moment. Or Toothless is with her. They’re together.” Hiccup pushed his hair back, lost for what to say next.

“Right,” Jack said again, as though he didn’t know what to say either.

Well, he’d never know if he didn’t ask … “He said something else,” Hiccup said. “And … I think he was just trying to get to me, but I wanted to ask you about it.”

He didn’t miss Jack’s expression turning cautious, but he told himself not to jump to conclusions. If Jack had told _him_ that Pitch had said something suspicious, he’d be worried, too.

“What did he say?” Jack asked.

“I think he was trying to make me think you two have worked together,” Hiccup said. “He said that you ‘knew him better than you let on’.”

Hiccup studied Jack’s face. Jack’s jaw was tight, and though he was hiding it, Hiccup could tell that there was rage somewhere under there.

“It sounded suspicious to me,” Hiccup said. “If he really wanted to get under my skin, and you _had_ worked for him in the past, he’d have just said that. There’s no reason for him to be coy about it unless he’s lying.”

Jack finally replied, “I never worked for him. Not for his lack of trying. Seems to think I’d fit in with his crowd or something.”

Hiccup nodded. He realised he’d been sort of hoping that Jack would give him some more information about himself, that he would decide to explain exactly what Pitch was referring to. He trusted Jack’s word over Pitch’s, of course, and he really did believe that Jack had never worked for Pitch, but also … he couldn’t help being disappointed. He wanted to know more.

He put it out of his head for now. It wasn’t like he could fault Jack for keeping secrets when he was keeping so many himself. And they had more important things to think about.

“We should make sure Pitch doesn’t get to Rapunzel,” Hiccup said. There wasn’t much Pitch could do to him — not with Toothless protecting him — but if he told Gothel where Rapunzel was …

“Merida,” Jack said. “The castle is as protected as it gets around here.”

“You should take her soon,” Hiccup said. “Today.”

“Merida and Elinor would be happy to have you both,” Jack assured Hiccup. “Pitch won’t come for you or Toothless there, either. It’s too close to the edge of the forest, and it’s right near North’s mound.”

“Just Rapunzel,” Hiccup said.

Jack’s jaw tensed again. “Hiccup. I went to talk to Tooth. North and Pitch have both tried to contact her and get her to join their side. And Pitch hasn’t done anything so far, but … that might change. You should come to the castle, too.”

Hiccup didn’t say anything for a moment. He didn’t want to leave the hut or the clearing. He didn’t want to go to Dunbroch Castle — the very thought made him uncomfortable. Certainly, part of it was because he didn’t like the idea of living around so many people. Part of it was because the longer he stayed near Elinor and Fergus, the more likely they were to recognise him. But there was another part, too, larger than those.

It was time he admitted it. He didn’t know, despite everything, if he could stand to be that far from Berk.

“Hiccup?” Jack prompted.

“I think I should stay here,” Hiccup said. “Pitch is after me, right? Or, Toothless. Maybe he won’t come in after Merida, or Rapunzel, or you. But if he really needs Toothless back, then he might risk it for me.” It wasn’t really the truth, but he wasn’t exactly lying if he said that wasn’t a concern as well.

“The castle is too well protected,” Jack said. “Even if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to get in.”

But Jack didn’t sound entirely confident, and Hiccup took that as his chance.

“But you can’t be sure, right?”

“I’m sure he can get to you here,” Jack pointed out.

Hiccup … really didn’t have a good argument against that. He brushed his hair back from his face. “Fine. I’m just not cut out for castles,” he said. Another lie, but closer to the truth. Jack seemed to understand a little bit about being uncomfortable, maybe he’d listen to that. “And those attacks … someone should keep an eye on them, in case something else changes.”

Jack was silent for a moment, then said, “You don’t want to leave Berk. That’s the problem, right?”

Hiccup looked away. “I didn’t say that,” he said.

Jack looked over towards the edge of the forest, over to where Berk was. “You don’t owe them anything, you know,” he said. “If they don’t want you there, why protect them?”

Hiccup bristled. “It’s not that I’m protecting them. You don’t get it.”

Jack looked up at him with a slightly stunned expression, like he couldn’t believe what Hiccup had just said. Then his expression turned sour. “Right,” he said.

Hiccup looked away. He should have known, really. He was still just as difficult as when he’d lived in Berk. It was only a matter of time until he said something and pushed Jack away, too. Probably a good thing Rapunzel would be going to the castle.

“Let me take Punzie,” Jack said. “If you change your mind when I get back…”

Hiccup nodded, still focussing on the exposed root of a tree somewhere off to Jack’s right, rather than on Jack himself.

Toothless joined them, which Hiccup took to mean that Rapunzel was back. He heard Jack’s voice, bright and cheery again, and then Rapunzel’s. Rapunzel called, “See you at the castle soon, Hiccup!” and then it seemed that they left.

Hiccup scratched absently at Toothless’s head until he was sure they were gone, then he inclined his head off towards the woods. “Come on, bud,” he said. “I think we need to go and ask some questions.”


	35. Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want you all to know how much I appreciate you for sticking around 35 chapters to answer questions that you asked in like chapter one.

Jack and Rapunzel started off towards Castle Dunbroch. Jack tried to act natural, steps long, pace casual, stick resting back over his shoulder. He pushed Hiccup’s comment out of his head. Hiccup didn’t really know Jack, so really, it was to be expected that he’d think something like that. But Jack could think about that later. Now, he had to concentrate on Rapunzel, because he had some questions he needed to answer.

Rapunzel fiddled with her hands as she walked. Pascal rode on her shoulder, and looked around the woods apprehensively.

“Jack?” she asked.

“Ask away,” Jack told her, and his voice was a little louder than he intended, but hopefully she took that as confidence. “I promised, didn’t I?”

Rapunzel nervously ran her hands over her braid and said, “OK … I guess … what made you come to the tower, the first time we met?”

Jack laughed. She probably thought she’d started with an easy question. “Hope you’re ready for a story, Punzie, because there’s actually a lot to tell about that one.”

Rapunzel nodded.

Jack took a breath. He’d always found it easier to dive right in with the hard things first, so that’s where he’d start now. “Alright. Well. I was looking for my family, and you’re sort of the closest thing I have.”

Rapunzel was so startled that she stumbled on a root. “Family? How? You … you know Mother Gothel’s not my real mother, right?”

“Of course not! Don’t worry, there’s no way I could think you were actually related to _her_.” He hesitated. “I, uh.”

“Hey, Jack, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s OK, I just thought …”

“I promised, so I’ll do it,” Jack told her firmly. And he did mean that — he did intend to tell her, even if Pascal wasn’t making a low, croaky growling noise at him, communicating that while Rapunzel was willing to let this drop, he most certainly was not. “The thing is, Punzie, you aren’t related to Mother Gothel. But depending on your definition, I am.”

“How?” Rapunzel asked quietly.

“You probably don’t want all the details,” Jack said, knowing full well that it was really that he didn’t want to give all the details. “The important thing is, you know all the stories of parents selling their firstborns to fairies in return for favours? And the fairy gives them a fake child in return? You were sold to Mother Gothel. I’m the changeling brat that she swapped for you.”

Rapunzel chewed on her lip. “You’re … her son?”

“Son. Creation. Craft project. Changelings are a little strange that way.” He came very close, though he stifled it at the last second, to saying ‘disposable’.

“So, what about … my parents?” Rapunzel asked. “Why didn’t you stay with them?”

“They’re dead,” Jack said, shortly. “They tried to go back on the deal. Tried to drown me in a lake.”

“Oh,” Rapunzel said.

They were quiet for a long time. Jack wanted to tell her it was because they realised what a mistake they’d made by bargaining away such a wonderful daughter, but he didn’t think he could quite manage it. That was a little too insincere, even for him.

“I’m sorry,” Rapunzel said, quietly.

“Hey,” Jack said. “It’s not your fault. You were, what, three months old? You probably still hadn’t even figured out how fingers worked.”

Rapunzel gave him a small smile. “So you came to find Mother?”

“Aaah,” Jack said, with a ‘yes-and-no’ wiggle of his hand. “She’s kind of famous. It’s pretty common knowledge that she and Pitch are pretty close. I already knew she was the _last_ person I wanted to meet. I came to the tower to see who _you_ were. Who she’d swapped for me.” Then he realised how that sounded and added quickly, “Everything after that was just because I liked your company, promise!”

Rapunzel smiled at him again, weakly. “Jack?”

“Yeah, Punzie?”

“Let’s … talk about something else for a while. I don’t think I want to talk about Mother anymore.”

“Sure,” Jack said. Rapunzel sounded almost like she was going to be sick. Topic over, then. “Consider it dropped. For now. As long as you want.”

“So … about Hiccup …”

Jack held his hands up. “Sorry, Punzie. He’s about as cagey as they come. I don’t know anything more than you do about him.” Which was true, and he was glad it was true, because he didn’t know if he could make the choice to either tell Hiccup’s secrets or break his promise to Rapunzel.

“I know, I know,” Rapunzel said. “But you know why Pitch is so interested in him, don’t you?”

“Ah,” Jack said. Well, he might have to tell her that much … because she’d left the tower, and like he’d always said, she was involved now and deserved to know. “Yes. Because of Toothless. Toothless is Grimalkin, and they’re all supposed to belong to Pitch. But Grimalkins … it’s complicated, but they can change masters if they owe their lives to someone else. Hiccup says he saved Toothless’s life once, but he never told me how.”

Rapunzel sighed. “I wish I’d asked him more about it.”

“You’ll see him again soon,” Jack promised. “Besides, he’d probably just have grumped and changed the topic. Even I need more than a couple of days to pry the really juicy secrets out of him.”

Rapunzel rolled her eyes at him.

After a few more moments, she asked. “So … with Pitch and everything … what is the plan?”

Jack shrugged. “Keep us all safe. Survive. Don’t let Pitch take Toothless.”

Rapunzel nodded, hesitantly, then again more firmly. “I guess … I suppose we can do that.”


	36. The Other Second Opinion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiccup and Aster would get on really well and nobody can convince me otherwise.

Toothless knew the way to Aster’s little cottage better, so Hiccup let him lead and concentrated on what he was going to say when they got there. As they walked through the gate and into the garden, Hiccup considered turning back, but then he noticed that the beets were gone, and the soil had been recently all dug up and returned. He thought he saw grains of salts scattered around the soil.

Aster must have taken his advice.

He went to the door and knocked, waiting in plain view for Aster to come and open it.

Aster looked a little grumpy when he came to the door, but his expression changed when he saw Hiccup. Not cleared exactly, though Hiccup thought he might have seen a little relief there. But the expression was predominantly confusion, giving way to … was that worry?

“Oh,” Aster said, gruff as usual. “It’s you. Come in, why don’t you?”

Toothless leaped up into Hiccup’s arms, becoming a small cat, and eyed Aster from his perch as they stepped into the house, one paw on Hiccup’s shoulder.

“Blimey,” Aster muttered, but closed the door behind them and gestured to the table. “Didn’t think you’d be coming by without Jack,” he said.

“It’s a little spur of the moment,” Hiccup said. “And it’s … sort of Jack that I wanted to ask you about.”

“Ah,” Aster said. “Maybe I’d better make us a drink of something, then, if we’re going to be talking about him. Could be a while.”

Hiccup nodded, and didn’t complain as Aster made a thick drink of warmed milk and egg with spices Hiccup didn’t recognise immediately, nor as he added a significant portion of some sort of liquor from an unlabelled bottle to each of the cups.

“Well,” Aster said. “What d’you wanna know?”

“Nothing about his … past, I guess,” Hiccup said. “He and I sort of have a deal about that. I just wanted to know how you two know each other. And what you meant when you said that Jack would get me killed one day.”

Aster sighed. “I didn’t exactly mean that,” he said.

“I know,” Hiccup said. “But I’d still like to know.”

Aster took a sip, then tapped the side of the mug and said, “I’ll start with how we met. That’s not really important. I think maybe you’d be better off knowing that we mainly know each other because he sends people to me. Kids, mostly, who get lost in the woods.”

Hiccup looked up sharply.

“I’ve lived out here a good long while, and I can look after meself,” Aster said. “But kids get lost in the woods more often than you might think. Jack’s forever finding them. Got sort of a knack for it.”

Hiccup nodded, but didn’t say anything. He’d been wandering in the woods as a child more than any adult would have liked him to be. Was it just that he was never really lost? Or that Jack preferred different areas of the forest?

“Well,” Aster said, and Hiccup didn’t know if he hadn’t noticed the hesitation or if he was discreetly moving on, “Some of ‘em he takes back himself, some he asks me to take care of. Sometimes I’m not sure why he asks me — the ankle-biters like him well enough and he’s no stranger than me to most adults, especially if they don’t look too close. I never pried. He and I keep a patrol out for Pitch’s people as well. Just because they’re not allowed to mess with the villages doesn’t mean they aren’t out to make trouble.”

“I know,” Hiccup said.

“Reckon you do.” Aster took a drink. “So, for your second question, knowing that.” He paused, and watched Hiccup take a sip from his mug, before continuing. “And nothing about his past. Mind if I ask you something first?”

Hiccup nodded.

“What do you think of him?”

Hiccup had to think about that. “He’s …” he started, but he didn’t quite know how to explain what he meant. Aster was watching him. “Thoughtless … isn’t the right word,” he said. “I feel like I can’t tell why he does things, a lot of the time. I think he likes to pretend that he does everything on the spur of the moment, even when he’s got his reasons. And he does everything quickly, too. It’s like he doesn’t want to think about decisions anymore after he makes them.”

“You know,” Aster said. “I think you just hit closer to the truth than most.”

Hiccup shrugged.

“I won’t tell you why I think this,” Aster said. “But he’s not a real thoughtful person, that Jack. And he’s no good at consequences.”

“That … I can believe that,” Hiccup said, wondering if Aster would say something similar about him, if he knew more about Hiccup.

Aster watched him for a while. “Why’d you come to me?” he asked.

Toothless butted Hiccup in the chin, which thankfully gave Hiccup a little time to think about his response. “Pitch,” he said finally. “Pitch has been offering for me to come join him, as long as I bring Toothless with me. And he said something about Jack knowing more about Pitch than I’d think. Jack said that Pitch thought that Jack would be a good fit for his team.” He didn’t know if he was explaining that well at all, but Aster nodded like he was following, so Hiccup continued. “I don’t believe Jack would ever work for Pitch, or even think about it. But I’m curious why Pitch would believe that. And I came to you because … well, I’ve met a few people that Jack knows, but everyone else either doesn’t know much about him, or isn’t close with him. You know him well, and you’re fond of him, too.”

Aster harrumphed, though Hiccup didn’t know what part had caused the reaction. “You’re not getting Jack’s take on what Pitch wanted?”

“I’ll get his, too.”

“You just don’t want to rely on Jack’s word about himself,” Aster said, completing the unspoken part of Hiccup’s sentence.

Hiccup shrugged. “That sounds a bit …”

Aster put his mug down again. “If it was just that you fancied him or something, I’d tell you to just ask him yourself. But since it’s Pitch …”

Hiccup could feel his face changing colour at that, and he quickly picked the mug up to hide it.

“Since it’s Pitch?” he prompted.

“Since it’s Pitch,” Aster said, just a little too casually for that pause to have been accidental. “I really don’t know. Sorry, kid. I know Jack and North aren’t exactly on the same page about things, but they’re not exactly unfriendly either. I guess Pitch for a while was sorta hoping that Jack would finally get fed up with North and come join him out of spite, though if you ask me, he’s wasting his time. Jack and spite don’t exactly go together.”

“They don’t,” Hiccup agreed.

“There might be some history between them I don’t know,” Aster said. “Maybe some conversation a long ways back, or something. But as far as I know, Pitch was just trying his luck.”

Hiccup nodded. “Thanks, Aster.”

Aster shrugged. “How about in return, you answer one more question.”

Hiccup felt his jaw tense, and Toothless glanced up at him with one half-open eye. “What is it?” he asked.

“Say Pitch comes after Jack. Or Berk. What’s your plan?”

“Berk?” Hiccup asked. “Why do you say Berk?”

“You live close to Berk,” Aster said. “People don’t just grow outta the ground in the woods, so you gotta come from somewhere. And it seems like you’re keeping an eye out for the place, so I figured it was as good a guess as any.”

Hiccup couldn’t argue with that. He wondered if maybe he should have been less obvious. If Aster figured it out, it couldn’t be too hard for Pitch either.

“Haven’t figured that out yet,” Hiccup said quietly.

Aster nodded. “Well, think on it. It’s not nice to think about, but if there’s one thing Pitch knows it’s ‘not nice’.”

Hiccup finished his drink. The liquor must have mostly fallen to the bottom because it made him cough.

“I’ll have to go,” Hiccup said. “Jack said he’d be back after … soon.”

Aster nodded.

“Thanks for talking to me,” Hiccup said.

“You can trust Jack,” Aster said. “Just keep an eye out for him, too. In both senses.”

Hiccup nodded. “I will.”

As he stood up, Toothless jumped off his lap and turned into his larger form on the way to the ground. Aster shuddered. “You’re braver than me,” he said darkly.

Hiccup patted Toothless’s head, and Aster walked them to the door.


	37. Dropped Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would it really be a story if everyone didn’t frustrate everyone else at some point or other?
> 
> Also this chapter and the next one are pretty short so I'll just post them both together.

Jack had expected to take Rapunzel right into Dunbroch Castle, but instead, as soon as they entered the huge clearing where the castle stood and approached the big gates, Merida ran at them, full pelt from the archery range. She stopped them and ushered them back into the forest. Maybe he should have guessed — probably best if Merida just brought Rapunzel in without mentioning him at all.

“Jack?” she asked. “What’s this?”

“Long story, Mer,” Jack said. “But the short version is that we need you to take Rapunzel for a while.”

Merida’s eyes narrowed. “Pitch?” she guessed.

Jack nodded. “He’s persistent,” he said, fiddling with a groove in the wood of his staff. “And really seems to like cats.”

“What about Hiccup?” Merida asked.

“Jack and I needed a little bit to talk,” Rapunzel said, when Jack didn’t answer immediately. “Jack’s going back for him now … right? After all, he’d probably have to … I suppose pack some things. And do something about the animals?”

She looked at him expectantly, and Jack knew she was waiting for him to agree, to say that Hiccup had just a few things to take care of before he came, too. He picked at that groove in the staff and tried not to scowl as he remembered their argument. “Maybe,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Rapunzel asked.

“He says he won’t leave,” Jack said, a little louder, though he hadn’t really meant to. Then he really did scowl. “He’s about as stubborn as his damn cat.”

Rapunzel looked between Merida and Jack.

Merida blew a hair out of her face and folded her arms. “You’re not letting that stand, right?” she said. “You’re gonna go back and get him.”

“Of course I’m going back,” Jack said. “Just don’t be disappointed if he doesn’t come.” He knew he sounded sour, though he had been intending to sound optimistic, like he was sure Hiccup would only take a little more convincing.

“Idiot,” Merida muttered, and Jack wasn’t sure if she meant him or Hiccup.

Rapunzel bit her lip. “You’ll try, though, won’t you? I don’t really know that much about Pitch, but you all seem worried, and even if Toothless is there …”

“Blessing and a curse,” Jack said. “It’s Toothless Pitch is after, remember?”

Rapunzel started to fidget with her hands again.

“Jack,” Merida cautioned.

“Sorry, Punzie,” Jack said, trying again for that smile. “I’m just worried. I’ll be happy again soon, I promise.”

Merida opened her mouth, but then she seemed to decide against whatever she’d been about to say. “If he’s as stubborn as he seems …” she began instead.

“Worse than a Dunbroch,” Jack interrupted. “Might as well as that castle of yours to take a step over so it’s not blocking your light.”

“Then,” Merida continued, “Don’t you let him be on his own, you hear?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jack said immediately, and it was true. Even if what Hiccup had said to him still stung, just because the stubborn fool didn’t have the sense to come in out of the rain, didn’t mean he’d be rid of Jack that easily.

Merida started to take Rapunzel back to the castle, and Jack kicked off a nearby tree, using some leverage to launch himself into the wind. As always, after the storm, there was a tense half a second where he wondered — where he doubted for a moment that the wind would help him like it always did.

But of course, it didn’t, and he was on his way back to Hiccup’s hut, bouncing off trees and letting the wind catch him and take him as fast as it pleased.

He silently apologised to the wind for doubting, feeling both guilty and angry at that storm for even putting the thought into his head that the wind might have turned against him.

But he put the thought out of his mind. Time to be chipper again. He was going to talk to Hiccup.


	38. Unasked Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Communication is important, kids.
> 
> Also this is the second post of two today, so if it seems like I skipped some important details, it may be because there was another chapter before this one.

Hiccup wasn’t sure whether he was disappointed in himself or not for the slight relief he felt when Rapunzel left with Jack. The house felt comfortable again, like home. But it also felt lonely, like there was a noise he’d always heard in the background that was suddenly gone. Even if the noise had been obtrusive sometimes, the air felt empty without it.

And of course, Rapunzel was a friend, right? You weren’t supposed to be glad when friends left. They’d always said he was disagreeable in Berk, and he apparently hadn’t changed much.

He settled for believing that it was good that she was going to Merida now, since that meant that she would be in better hands than his.

He was interrupted by the _whooshthump_ that accompanied Jack’s arrival at — or rather, onto — the little hut. Hiccup held his breath as Jack came hurtling at the structure, but the landing was remarkably soft and controlled, and Jack slipped down the side of the house as if he’d been hopping off a felled tree, and landed on the ground without a sound.

“Rapunzel’s safe,” he announced, walking over to Hiccup with his staff slung over his shoulder.

Hiccup nodded. “I’m glad,” he said. “Listen, Jack, when I said …”

Jack’s face barely even changed expression, as he waved away the apology before it could even begin. “No need. Unless, in exchange, you were thinking of changing your mind and coming to the castle, after all?” He gave a hopeful, if slightly sharp, grin.

Hiccup sighed and looked away. “No,” he said quietly. Couldn’t Jack just drop the subject?

Jack’s staff swung back over his shoulder, and one bare foot scuffed the grass, plucking blades with his toes, like another person might fiddle with something in their hands. Then he gave a low, slightly rueful laugh. “Guess I can understand that,” he said, in a tone that made Hiccup think there was a little more to it than that.

Jack’s foot continued to scuff the ground.

“Will you let me stay with you, then?” Jack asked suddenly.

Hiccup blinked. “What, just like that?”

Jack shrugged. “Well, I didn’t expect you to change your mind, really. I know you’re stubborn when you want to be … and sometimes when you don’t.”

Hiccup folded his arms, not really having any plausible rebuttal for that but wanting to indicate his displeasure with the statement anyway. Toothless headbutted him in the back of the knee, as if to say ‘he’s got you there’.

“And I sorta promised Merida I at least wouldn’t let you be all on your own,” Jack said.

Hiccup raised one eyebrow a little. “Oh, so you would leave me to Pitch, but for _Merida_ making you promise. I see how it is.”

Jack took a moment, then made a slightly ironic expression of his own, and said, “Well, yeah. Haven’t you been listening to everyone else? I’m sure they’ve all told you I’m not trustworthy at least once each by now. Didn’t you realise the only time I ever do things for other people is when I’m forced?”

“Never was much good at listening,” Hiccup said. “Guess I skipped over those parts. Sounds like you, though.”

There was a silence, and they both broke into grins, though not quite into laughter. Hiccup ran his hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head. “I really do want to apologise for saying that you don’t understand about … Berk, though, Jack.”

“I told you, don’t worry about it,” Jack said. “Not the worst thing I’ve been accused of.”

Oddly, Hiccup was expecting his voice to sound a little strained, as usual when he was trying to shrug something off, but Jack’s voice sounded genuinely carefree. Was it … really not as bad as he had thought?

“You’re giving me an odd look,” Jack said.

Hiccup shook his head quickly, half to shake himself out of his thoughts, half to deny that he had been looking at anyone in any type of manner. “I didn’t … I mean, I wasn’t meaning …”’

Jack grinned again, wider, and chuckled. “Forgot how funny you are when you’re flustered. Things have been far too serious lately.”

Hiccup, glad he wouldn’t have to explain, nodded, even if it meant just ignoring the ‘flustered’ comment.

“Well? How about it? You going to let me keep my promise to Merida?”

Hiccup made a ‘might as well’ face, with a small shake of his head as if he was weighing it up. “Guess I can always set a chicken on you if you get too annoying,” he said.

“Not funny,” Jack said. “I thought I was going to die for a few minutes there!”

Hiccup barked a laugh. “I suppose if you’re light enough to fly, a chicken could probably give you trouble.”

He moved over to the little shed out the back of the hut. “I’m reinforcing the walls,” he said. “And the chicken coop, too. In case there are more storms.”

The mood suddenly turned sober.

“How can I help?” Jack asked, and came to take a bucket from him.


	39. Another Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I came here to ship HiJack but honestly I just kinda want to write Merida and Rapunzel interacting for the rest of the story?

Rapunzel had only ever seen two buildings in her life — well, that she could remember, since she couldn’t remember the house her real parents had lived in when she had been sto — bargained away to Mo — Gothel. She used to think that her tower was tiny and cramped. Then she had seen Hiccup’s hut, which really _was_ tiny, but for some reason it felt much less cramped. She allowed that, really, Hiccup’s hut included the shed and the coop and the gardens and the whole clearing, and put all together there was probably more space than in Mother’s tower, and certainly fewer walls and more sky, and that was probably why.

So she really wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the Dunbrochs' castle.

It was tall like Mother’s tower, and walled in, but had a grounds area like Hiccup’s hut, bustling with people and animals. It was also far wider than either the tower or Hiccup’s whole clearing — Rapunzel couldn’t take it all in from this distance without having to turn her head. And it was noisy! Moth — Gothel’s tower had had lots of little noises, of the forest far below and the wind. It was more than tall enough that the wind was loud even on the calmest days! And of course when Mother was home, she was always humming to herself or talking to Rapunzel or making noise with the loom or the kitchen. Hiccup’s hut had been extremely quiet. The forest noises had been closer, and she could hear the chickens clucking, but most of his work was done outside. If he talked, he talked quietly, muttering to himself rather than really _talking_. And he definitely didn’t sing.

But she had heard the Dunbroch Castle long before she and Jack had been able to see it. There was a forge somewhere, and there were all sorts of animals that she could both hear and smell. She could hear people riding in and out on horses, and loudly laughing voices, and even, faintly, a group singing some sort of work chant. There were so many tools being used that she couldn’t even tell what they were chanting in time with.

Merida looked at Rapunzel out of the corner of her eye and grinned. Rapunzel caught herself and closed her mouth. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I don’t mean to stare …”

“Ah, don’t fret,” Merida said, waving a hand. “Most people who haven’t seen the castle before look a bit like fish when they visit for the first time.” Merida opened her own mouth and eyes wide, in a credible imitation of a dumbstruck traveller.

Rapunzel giggled, and had to take a little extra half-step in her stride to catch up with Merida again, who was striding towards the castle with confidence.

Merida pushed open the doors and strode on into the castle without knocking or announcing herself or Rapunzel — Rapunzel hesitated a little, feeling like she really shouldn’t be entering without permission, or at least without letting someone know who she was, but had to quickly scoot in behind Merida before the big doors shut on her.

“Will you go see if me mum’s about?” Merida asked one of the two men standing next to the door, and he nodded enthusiastically and hurried off.

The guard returned with an older woman, nearly Merida’s match around the nose and in the shape of her face, but her hair was either black or a very dark, dark brown, and she had brown eyes and a very different posture and manner. Merida strode — she was large and proud and made you notice her. This woman coming down the stairs took small, proper steps, one hand perched on the rail but not grasping it, and one hand holding her skirt precisely above her shoes so that it was not in her way, but her legs were not exposed. Her movements were measured, precise, almost dainty, but she had such poise and control that Rapunzel felt compelled to pay attention to her, even before she had said anything. Rapunzel would have thought that she was Queen Elinor even if Merida hadn’t leaned over and whispered the name to her as the Queen came down the stairs to greet her daughter.

“Oh, Merida, dear,” Queen Elinor said. “And who is this? A new friend of yours?”

“Mum, this is Rapunzel,” Merida said. “She’s the friend I mentioned the other day. She needs somewhere safe to stay for a while.”

Rapunzel smiled sheepishly at the Queen, not sure if she should have curtsied, whether it was too late to curtsy now, or whether she should wave or try to shake hands instead, and moreover where was the most polite place to put her hands if she wasn’t going to be doing anything with them. “Pleasure to meet you,” she said, expecting the Queen to instruct her to speak up, or say that she hadn’t heard.

But instead, the Queen just nodded and said, “The pleasure is mine, Rapunzel. And your … companion?”

She must have met Toothless, too. Rapunzel nodded. “His name is Pascal. He’s a chameleon.”

“A pleasure to meet him, too. Girls, let’s take this to a more private room.”

She led them up the stairs and into a large bedroom, with a big four-poster bed covered in fur, and a loom next to the bed with the first few centimetres of a carpet or tapestry strung on it. Merida sat down heavily on the bed, kicking her shoes off so she could pull her feet up, and cross her legs, her skirts flaring out in all directions around her.

Queen Elinor made a small noise between a chuckle and a sigh, and Merida wrinkled her nose at her mother, giggling.

Rapunzel stood until Merida told her, “Just sit anywhere, Punzie,” and Rapunzel took an awkward seat on the end of the bed, though after a moment she pushed her own shoes off and tucked her legs under her, arranging her skirts neatly. She helped Pascal off her shoulder and put him on one of her knees instead, where he wouldn’t have to dodge the big braid she wore her hair in now. She looked at Merida for confirmation that she was allowed to sit like that. Merida grinned at her, and Queen Elinor joined them on the bed, folding her legs neatly under her and tucking her skirts neatly to the side. She winked at Rapunzel, and Rapunzel found herself smiling back.

“Well,” Elinor said. “A friend of … Jack’s?”

“And Hiccup’s,” Merida said. “Rapunzel is … uh …” her round face screwed up. “Well, I don’t think you ever actually told me.”

“I’m human,” Rapunzel said. “At least, I think.”

Queen Elinor raised her eyebrows in the politest expression of complete bafflement Rapunzel had ever seen. Rapunzel fiddled with one of her fingernails.

“I mean …” she said. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologise, dear,” Queen Elinor said. “Perhaps you’d like us to change the topic?”

“Well, I guess I know I’m human,” Rapunzel said. “Sorry, Jack … told me some things on the way here.”

Merida gave a low whistle. “So you managed to fight some truth out of Frost, did you? Didn’t think he had it in him. You must be a force to be reckoned with, Punzie!”

Rapunzel blushed deep red, but somehow the joke made it a little easier for Rapunzel to continue on with her story.

“Well …” she said. “I grew up in a tower in the woods, with a fairy named Mother Gothel. Jack always came to visit, but he’d never tell me why, only promise to tell me later.”

“What’d he say?” Merida asked, face intensely interested.

“When I was a baby,” Rapunzel said, “My parents … sold me to Mother Gothel in exchange for something. Jack didn’t say what. Part of the deal was replacing me with a changeling, he said, but my … our … I don’t know really … my parents tried to go back on the deal, so they, uh …” she trailed off. “Anyway, Jack said that’s why he first came to find me.”

There was silence in the room, and Rapunzel felt Pascal give her a comforting pat on the knee with his tiny foot, though she was looking at her hands, not at him. Then Merida said, “So he’s a changeling, then!”

“I suppose that does explain quite a lot,” Queen Elinor said quietly.

Rapunzel’s heart dropped. She was so used to being the one who didn’t know things! “Oh, I thought … I thought he’d told you already!” She put her hands to her face. “I … I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I won’t tell him,” Merida said. “Mum, we’ll keep quiet, right? Act all surprised if he ever mentions. It’ll be a proper secret!”

Queen Elinor nodded. “Not a soul. It wasn’t your fault, if you thought we already knew.”

Merida nodded. “Don’t worry about Frost being upset. He’d forgive you just about anything.”

Rapunzel felt herself turning a little red again. “Well …”

Merida cut her off with, “Well, the point is, you’re human, not fairy, and Mum, there’s trouble.” And she outlined what had happened so far with Pitch, and why Rapunzel had been taken to Hiccup, and why she was being brought to the castle now. Rapunzel listened to the story, and though she had trouble with the strange turns and tangents Merida took in telling it, Elinor didn’t seem to have much trouble following it at all. Occasionally, Pascal made little worried croaking noises, only loud enough for Rapunzel to hear. She gave him a finger to hold as she listened, too — most of this she knew, but there was some of it that she had

As she listened, Elinor’s frown got deeper and deeper, her lips and jaw tighter. At the end of it, she looked as if she were about to say something, but then she glanced at Rapunzel and her face relaxed into an expression that wasn’t quite a smile, but it was more pleasant. Rapunzel looked away. She must have looked too concerned. Elinor had been covering up her concern for Rapunzel’s sake.

“Well, let me have some time,” Elinor said, standing up and smoothing her skirts. “Merida, I’ll talk to your father. Why don’t you show Rapunzel to a spare room? That one next to yours with the tapestries you made last spring, perhaps?”

Merida looked embarrassed, but hopped up off the bed anyway, skirts swishing as she spun and turned to Rapunzel. “Let’s go,” she said, with a tilt of her head. “Don’t mind the hems on the tapestries … Mum had to fix them for me.”

Rapunzel smiled and mumbled something about not really minding about the tapestries, and let Merida lead her out of the room, with a little nod to Elinor as they went.


	40. Constructive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you sick of me writing about Jack sleeping in trees yet? Because I’m starting to think there is no scenario for which I cannot contrive a reason Jack would sleep in a tree.

At first, Jack hadn’t been certain whether Hiccup was just humouring him with tasks. Hiccup seemed to give him things to do off-hand, little things like ‘just hold this here for a moment’, and ‘pick a cabbage’ and ‘check the rabbits’ straw and tell me how dirty it is’. None of them were more than five minutes long, and not a single one required anything even resembling critical thinking skills.

Hiccup didn’t talk much while he worked, except to sort of mutter to himself. Jack was torn on that — did he mention it, and try to start a conversation? Or was Hiccup self-conscious about that, like he clearly was about his dead-looking skin? Jack hadn’t thought about that when he agreed to live with Hiccup — he hadn’t realised how much time he’d spend worrying about whether these silences were the companionable type or the awkward type. Or if there was a difference.

He also hadn’t really thought about how much he’d be sort of hoping that Hiccup would take his shirt off to work on the house again, especially without any conversation to distract him.

It was getting near the end of the day. Not yet near sunset, but the trees were starting to block the light, so Hiccup had moved onto carving something small, flicking wood chips into a bowl in front of his crossed legs. Jack had just finished taking the last of the list of vegetables into the house, and had come out. He stood over Hiccup, leaning on his staff, then sat down opposite him, deciding that it was definitely good enough that he’d refrained from talking to Hiccup for … well, most of the day … and that it would be reasonable for him to make a joke by now.

“It was the chickens, wasn’t it?” he asked.

Hiccup looked up, surprised. “The … chickens?”

Jack snorted and lay his staff across his lap. “You can’t tell me you forgot that quickly. It looked like the first real laugh you’d had in ages!”

Hiccup snorted. “No, I’m never forgetting the chicken. I’m just wondering why you’d willingly bring that up.”

“Because I lost all my dignity a long time ago. You’ve been giving me busywork all day. Just had to know if it was because you don’t trust me or something.”

Hiccup turned an odder shade of grey, and shrugged. “Didn’t mean to,” he said. “My tasks haven’t exactly been riveting either.”

“Yeah, but you got to like … mix things and make walls and do …” Jack waved his hands. “Structural integrity stuff. I heard you muttering about that.”

“Sorry,” Hiccup said. “You should have said something earlier. I wasn’t really … thinking about it that hard.”

Jack shrugged. “Ah, well, as long as I was useful. Hey, now that I’ve got your attention, we could have a conversation or something. Tell me about your day or something. What’d you get done? I was pretty busy with the cabbages.”

Hiccup grinned. “Well, first I got wood, and then I got nails, and then I applied the nails to the wood so that next time we get a storm that big, I don’t get wet inside my own house.”

“Har har,” Jack said.

“Well, I don’t know what else I can say,” Hiccup said. “It’s not that interesting, I promise.”

“But you are,” Jack said.

Hiccup focussed even more intently on the piece of wood in his hands.

Jack flopped over onto the ground and looked up at the sky. It was still too bright for stars, but it was starting to look a deeper blue than before.

From out of the trees, Toothless wandered over, looking self-satisfied, and sat down behind Hiccup. Almost absently, Hiccup leaned over and rested against the big Grimalkin’s shoulder. Toothless curled up around him, and Hiccup pulled the bowl over to keep working.

Jack turned his head over to look at them. He wondered for a second what the reaction would be if he just sort of … wandered over and tried to join them.

“I’m proud of you,” Hiccup said, without looking up from the chunk of wood in his hand, that was nearly gone now, and the bowl nearly full.

“Hm?” Jack asked, not really listening as he kept watching Hiccup’s hands working.

“It’s been a few minutes and you haven’t said anything. Guess I must have tired you out.”

Jack snorted. “You underestimate my energy,” he said.

“I’m sure,” Hiccup said. “Which you’re saving, of course, by lying on the ground doing nothing.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Something like that.” It was strange — he wasn’t tired, exactly, but for some reason he wasn’t feeling any real need to get up from the ground and do things. Maybe he was starting to see what Hiccup saw in this ‘peace and quiet’ nonsense.

“Careful,” Hiccup said. “You’ll have everyone thinking you’ve calmed down.”

“I’m only doing it for you,” Jack said. “Inside, I’m all fidgety, I promise.”

Hiccup dropped the topic, with a grin. He finished off shaving the last of the wood into the bowl, and Jack asked, “What’s that for anyway?”

“A plate, so we can both have one that isn’t split. The chips are for the oven. For getting the fire started. And smoking things, now winter’s coming up.” He shook wood scraps off one hand and then used it to push his hair back — not quite well enough; there were still some scraps and curls of wood clinging to his fringe when he pulled his hand away.

Jack snorted. “You missed a bit,” he said, pointing. Hiccup lifted his hand to his hair and tried to fluff the wood chips away, but only succeeded in moving them around a little bit.

Jack let the wind push him up off the ground, and walked over. He leaned over and picked the few scraps out of Hiccup’s fringe and flicked them into the bowl.

He very deliberately concentrated more on Hiccup’s hair than his face, and honestly he was expecting to have his hand swiped away, but he managed to get several of the bits out of Hiccup’s hair before Hiccup pulled away, and ruffled his own hands through his hair, head tilted down, showering the last pieces of wood onto the ground next to the bowl.

“I distinctly recall you laughing at me for being too proper about my appearance,” Hiccup said, still looking at the ground as he stood up. He ran his hands through his hair again another few times, as if trying to make sure the last pieces of wood had been fluffed out. Or as if he was trying not to let Jack look at his face.

“Well,” Jack said. “There’s being improper and then there’s just having half a forest stuck on you.”

Hiccup stretched out his back and picked up the bowl. With the other hand, he tucked that necklace back into his shirt — it had fallen out when he bent over. It was just a chain with a flat disk on it, not even any image stamped into the brass. But Jack figured that was sentimental, which made him curious. And it was probably one of the things that Hiccup didn’t want to be asked about, so he couldn’t ask about it.

A few steps closer to the hut, Hiccup suddenly stopped. “I … just thought of something,” he said, a little hesitantly.

Jack had to fight to keep his voice nonchalant. What was this? Was this a bad thing or a good thing? Was Hiccup anxious or just still flustered?

“We never, um,” Hiccup said. “Decided where you were going to sleep.”

Oh. That was right. They hadn’t, had they?

Jack felt a pair of eyes on his back, and looked down to see that Toothless had opened one eye. Jack didn’t trust his gauge of the Grimalkin’s expressions to make a guess whether it was amusement, curiosity, or some level of contempt.

“Uh. It’s fine. Sleep isn’t really my style anyway,” Jack said. “I’ll find a spot on the roof or something.”

“Are you sure? It’s … not warm.”

Jack spun his staff, covering it in frost with a thought, and making frost crystals extend from his blueish toes on the grass.

“I’m not really the sort of person who worries about cold, either,” he pointed out.

Hiccup shrugged, and disappeared into the hut.

Jack looked down at Toothless, who yawned and made a _mlrp_ noise with his tongue, before settling his head back on his front paws. Jack didn’t know what that meant.

Jack left the smug feline where he was and went to the hut to see if there was anything Hiccup needed him to do.

Inside, Hiccup had filled a bucket with the contents of the wood chip bowl and was looking through a cupboard. There were a pile of blankets on the floor, both woven and fur.

Jack nudged it with his foot.

“I … figured you were just being polite about sleeping on the roof,” Hiccup said. “So I’m getting you something soft to sleep on. If you don’t mind the floor, I mean. Tomorrow I could maybe find you some straw or something that’s a bit softer, but for now I think there are enough blankets that it won’t be too uncomfortable. There’s only one pillow, but you can have it. I can use my big coat.”

Jack looked down at the pile of blankets and at Hiccup. He grinned, because it was the easiest of the several emotions that were vying for his attention. He picked up a blanket and pretended to look it over. “Well, it’s no tree stump in the forest,” he said. “But it’ll do.”

Hiccup looked as if he were about to comment on that, but instead he said, “I’ll make dinner,” and moved over to the kitchen.


	41. Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey it's almost like this story has plot

Rapunzel hadn ’t known entirely what to expect the first time she went downstairs to the big family dining room where the Dunbrochs ate their dinners. She had seen the large one for all guests — she and Merida had passed through that to get to their rooms, and it looked precisely as she had imagined it from the books that Mo — Gothel had sometimes brought her back, Until, that was, she started asking too many questions, and Gothel had said that the books she had were enough, if they were just going to make her worry so much. She had started bringing Rapunzel paints instead. Rapunzel reread those books so often she could have recited them.

Perhaps Castle Dunbroch would have some books Rapunzel might be allowed to borrow! Merida didn ’t seem the reading sort, but Queen Elinor did. And castles were supposed to have everything, weren’t they?

But the family dining hall was much smaller. Still bigger than any room in Mother ’s tower, but small enough that Rapunzel was glad that they were having dinner here, rather than in the larger room.

The dinner itself seemed to pass in a whirlwind. Merida and Elinor had exchanged a glance, and suddenly Rapunzel ’s plate was full, and Merida was handing it back to her with a wink, while her brothers, the triplets, attacked the table. Rapunzel had been looking forward to meeting Merida’s brothers, since Jack had told her so many stories about them, but she found that she couldn’t even see them, much less interact with them, under the flurry of flying food and serving plates. The triplets didn’t seem to be particularly interested the cutlery as a method for eating so much as a method of engineering as much food towards themselves and away from everyone else as possible.

Rapunzel and Elinor seemed to be the only ones who were overly concerned with etiquette otherwise. Fergus and Merida both seemed to use knives, forks and hands interchangeably, depending on what they found most convenient at the time. There was more food on Rapunzel ’s plate than she could possibly have eaten — certainly more than Mother would ever have served her — but Rapunzel was a little surprised to see Merida demolish a plate twice as full as Rapunzel’s and go back for more, with just as much enthusiasm as her brothers, if slightly less chaos.

Rapunzel bravely managed her way through three quarters of the plate. Merida and Fergus swapped stories for most of the meal  — Jack had already informed Rapunzel that the triplets didn ’t speak, and Elinor seemed content to limit her involvement to occasionally warning her husband about topics not suitable for the small boys (or perhaps Rapunzel — Elinor had looked over more than once to see Rapunzel’s expression of shock as she wondered exactly how many details Fergus was likely to share. Merida seemed to have heard the stories before or just know her father’s mind, since she usually sniggered at the correct times anyway, then nudged Rapunzel and said she’d tell her later).

The pandemonium on the other side of the table ended, and the boys sat, somehow perfectly clean, with their hands clasped, waiting to be dismissed. Elinor nodded to them and said they could go and amuse themselves, and the small tornado of red hair vanished from the table and into the depths of the castle somewhere.

Once they had gone, Queen Elinor folded her hands, and King Fergus coughed uncomfortably, grabbing a nearby napkin as if he had only just finished his meal instead of having been waving the bones around and joking with Merida for the past several minutes. He wiped his hands with the slightly self-conscious movements of someone who had been instructed in the proper method of getting one ’s hands clean several times but had not necessarily practiced much.

“Merida. Rapunzel,” King Fergus started, glancing at Elinor as if to check that it was the time to broach the topic. Rapunzel didn’t see Elinor give any response, but Fergus seemed heartened, so perhaps he had seen something she didn’t. 

“Elinor and I have discussed the … news,” he said, a little hesitantly, then coughed and seemed to regain a little confidence. “Elinor … that is, we think that this is a serious matter.”

“Of course it’s serious, Dad!” Merida protested. “You don’t have to go all politics on us, just tell us what you decided!”

“Patience, Merida,” Elinor cautioned, but only quietly.

Fergus coughed.  “We’re going to be visiting the towns first,” he said. “To make sure they’re all protected.”

“And because some of them might know more than us about the storm,” Elinor put in. “Some others might have seen something we didn’t.”

“Once we know that the towns are safe, we will start preparations on the castle,” Fergus said. “We might need to provide shelter here if those storms come back.”

Merida nodded.  “But … is that all?” she pressed.

“That’s all for _now,_ dear,” Elinor said. “We need information before we can act. We’re not dealing with a human invasion. Stories tend to get embellished. We need some better facts first.”

Merida sighed and nodded.  “I know,” she said.

“We’ll need you on your best diplomatic behaviour,” Elinor told Merida. Merida just blew a curl out of her eyes and said, “Yes, Mum.”

“What about you, dear?” Elinor asked, turning to Rapunzel, making her jump. 

“Um,” Rapunzel stuttered. “M - me?”

“Yes,” Elinor said. “Of course, you’re more than welcome to come with us, as a guest of the Royal Family. But if you would prefer to stay here, you may consider the Castle your home.”

“Oh,” Rapunzel said, fiddling with one of her fingers. “I … guess …”

“Do as you like,” Merida said, with a smile. “Don’t you worry that I’ll get put out or anything.”

“Well …” Rapunzel said. Still — what would they want her to do? Would Merida want her there to keep her company, or would she prefer to do this by herself? Rapunzel wasn’t royal, so she might get things wrong, and embarrass everybody … would it be difficult to explain why someone who wasn’t a Dunbroch had come along? Oh, what if they had to tell everyone about Mo — Gothel? Or Jack? Maybe she shouldn’t go … but would Merida think that Rapunzel didn’t want to spend time with her if she stayed? Would the Dunbrochs really be alright with a guest unattended in their house?

“You can have some time to think about it,” Elinor assured her. “It will take us several days to organise anyway.”

Merida leaned close and whispered,  “Royal trips. Could be done with the three of us on horses, but since it  _ must _ look important, we ’ll take half the castle with us. Plus, nobody likes a King and Queen just dropping in all unexpected, so they have to send warnings.”

“Oh,” Rapunzel said. “I see.”

She was glad that she didn ’t have to make a snap decision, but she knew she’d only be worrying about it for longer now. She tried a small smile.

Fergus coughed uncomfortably again, and said,  “Well. Elinor, shall we?”

“We’re starting the preparations,” Elinor said, standing up from her seat. “Merida, if there’s anything you want brought, you should make your lists and make sure that the staff have them in time.”

“Yes, Mum,” Merida said.

Elinor and Fergus left, and Merida nudged Rapunzel.  “You take your time thinking,” she said. “I’d better get on that list. Shall we go. I’ll find you a book or something while I work, yeah?”

Rapunzel smiled again, a little less nervously, and followed Merida out of the room.


	42. Another Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of this next third or so of the story I didn’t really have planned at the start; it was all plot that I added as I went because I was trying to get from Point A to Point B with all the character arcs intact. But this scene, despite getting forgotten a couple times in my outlining, was one of the scenes I knew I wanted to write very early in the planning process. I’m glad it did end up in the final product, because I think this is one of my favourite scenes. Maybe not the most fun to write, not one of the scenes that makes me grin evilly and post cryptic notes about how all my readers are going to hate me.
> 
> But definitely a scene that I take a lot of satisfaction in.

Hiccup nearly tripped over Jack when Toothless started growling in the middle of the night. It was only the fourth night that Jack had stayed, and Jack usually woke up first in the mornings  — by the time Hiccup woke up, the little blanket nest Jack made was piled up in the corner and Jack was outside watching the rabbits or something. So Hiccup still wasn ’t used to the presence in his hut, and certainly didn’t think to look out for him when Toothless raised the alarm in the middle of the night.

Jack made a muffled noise that could have been a yelp if it weren ’t fighting its way through sleep and several layers of blankets, but came awake quickly and was soon on his feet, hovering over Hiccup nervously as Hiccup tried to get changed and strap his leg on at the same time.

“Wh?” he asked.

“Toothless,” Hiccup explained, finally fumbling on the last buckle of his leg and throwing open the wardrobe for clothes. “Alarm. Berk.”

All trace of sleep disappeared from Jack ’s face, and he shifted nervously as Hiccup threw on his surcoat and reached for the woodpile axe.

Jack slammed the door behind them, and neither he nor Hiccup paused to check whether it really had latched properly. He leapt onto the wind and took the lead, quickly sailing away from Hiccup and Toothless, clearly wanting to move faster but not wanting to lose sight of Hiccup, either.

“Go ahead, bud,” Hiccup said, though Toothless already knew, and was already bounding after Jack. Hiccup nodded to Jack, and Jack picked up the pace, Toothless easily keeping up, leaving Hiccup to trail behind them.

  
  


***

  
  


They didn ’t entirely leave Hiccup behind — by the time they were nearing the village, Toothless had slowed a little for a more cautious approach, and Hiccup caught up with him. He slowed, too, listening for the sounds of anyone else moving through the trees. Jack was gone, though, and Hiccup decided to just trust that Jack would find them if he needed to.

It was good that they had slowed down. Soon, Toothless ’s ears pricked, ad a few moments later, Hiccup heard it too — the sound of others moving through the trees. Definitely not Jack. Too many of them, and besides, Jack moved like the wind, no footsteps, no sound when he touched trees, only the sound of the rustling leaves as he passed.

This wasn ’t good. When he and Toothless took care of threats, they were usually small ones — one or two enemies at most. But he’d seen at least five go past, and who knew how many more were approaching from other directions.

When they got to the part of the forest where it got easier to navigate the undergrowth, Toothless took off ahead of him as well, running for Berk ’s walls to get in front of the attackers. Hiccup pulled the axe up and crouched down. Toothless never went so far that he couldn’t come back if he needed, so Hiccup wasn’t worried, really, but there was no point taking unnecessary risks, either. He turned his head a little, trying to catch the noises of the attackers moving through the woods again. No — they were gone. He picked up his pace a little, every footstep sounding loud now that he was alone.

Ahead, there was a screech. He didn ’t know if Jack or Toothless had found the attacker, but it seemed things had begun.

A shadow streaked past him before he had time to react, and he cursed. One of Pitch ’s creatures, it seemed, had decided that a … whatever Jack was and a Grimalkin was more than it wanted to deal with.

Never mind. There were others to deal with first  — it could run if it liked.

He was getting closer to the little village now, and to his relief, he could hear distinctly human shouting in the distance. Someone in Berk must have sounded the alarm. Good. He and Toothless  — well, Toothless, really — could take care of small threats and single attackers, but Hiccup ’s axe was made for trees, and even with Jack’s help, he didn’t like their odds when they were so outnumbered. A mobilised Berk was a different matter, with real weapons and folk built on hearty meals, blacksmithing, and the most dangerous part of the woods right on their doorstep.

But Pitch ’s fairies were still cunning, and Hiccup kept on towards Berk. Every fight could use one small and difficult-to-notice person keeping an eye on the enemy from behind. At least, that’s usually what he believed. For the first time, he wasn’t really sure. Was he really doing any good? Would Berk really be in any more danger if he were gone?

It wasn ’t the time to think about that, but it kept worrying him, even as he tried to drag his attention back to the woods and to the attack.

Another screech from up ahead, and Hiccup was pretty sure this time that it was Toothless, given the wet, unhappy way the screech ended. Jack probably wasn ’t as likely to snap a throat mid-scream.

But there  — in the trees. Something waiting in the shadows.

Hiccup shifted the axe in his hand so it was balanced a little better. A little closer to the head, where he had more control and a shorter swing. As slowly and smoothly as possible, he walked, still crouched over, steps quick in the air and slow to press into the leaf litter, closer to the creature sitting in the tree. He had a little more chance of going unheard, now that there were sounds of metal and shouting from Berk to cover his quiet footsteps.

The thing was bird-like. The night was too dark to see what colour it truly was, but it was sickly-pale, and if Hiccup hadn ’t been looking, and hadn’t seen the slightest movement as it shifted its weight, he might have just passed it off as a strange reflection of the moonlight. It might have had feathers, or it might have been wearing a cloak. It certainly had talons — four of them, hands and feet. Hiccup was now close enough to see them gripping the branch. Its face, which might have been a human face or could have been a beak or muzzle or something else — Hiccup couldn’t see it — was curled down, its shoulders hunched as if it were preparing to spring. 

Just as Hiccup was getting close enough to start thinking about how he ’d get up the tree without the creature noticing him, it sprang forward and he cursed as it streaked towards the town. He abandoned stealth and used his crouch to lunge forwards, trying to add just a little extra speed to his start. Hiccup wasn’t really human anymore, but his body was still technically flesh and blood, and he usually couldn’t match the supernatural speed of a fairy creature. This one was no different.

The lights of the town were getting closer and closer, and Hiccup put on one more spurt of speed, knowing it was probably useless but not willing to give up without at least trying.

Then the big walls of Berk in sight, suddenly there was a crack and a screech, and Hiccup had thrown himself to the side on some instinct before his mind caught up with his eyes. He rolled behind a large tree and waited just a moment for his body to tell the rest of him what he ’d reacted to.

He peeked around the other side of the tree, to where Astrid was standing, with her axe  — very much of the  ‘battle’ variety, whereas Hiccup’s was solidly and uncompromisingly of the ‘wood’ persuasion — buried in the a pile of something that might have been feathers or might have been cloak and definitely was no longer moving. She paused a moment to catch her breath, stood up and brushed her fringe out of her face. She still wore her headband to be more decorative than functional, it seemed. She still chose her clothes the same way — tunic bound with leather belt that had so many things hanging off it that it might as well have been a skirt. She wore her tunic shorter than was usual for women, and her boots added a size or so to her feet. She hadn’t bothered with a cloak or surcoat, or any decorations other than the belt and headband, and the undertunic she wore was discoloured — clearly an old tunic for sleeping, not something she would usually wear during the day.

Then she peered into the trees. Hiccup knew that look well. It was the suspicious look. It was the same one he ’d gotten every time he tried to lie about where he’d been when he was out in the woods, or about another argument with his father. It was a little like the sun, in that it made his face burn and he’d never had the ability to look directly at it.

She put one foot on the creature without looking, and jerked the axe up and away from the body. From the town, Hiccup heard another voice, one that instinctively made him jump.  “Astrid! Astrid, did you find something?”

“Yeah,” Astrid called back over her shoulder, eyes still scanning the trees. “Dead now.”

“We got them all over this side,” the voice came again. Clearly Snotlout, Hiccup’s cousin. 

Both Astrid ’s and Snotlout’s voices had changed over the last five or so years. Snotlout’s had never been what might be called a ‘rich’ or ‘imposing’ voice, but the years had added depth to it that took away some of the teenage whine. Astrid had never seemed to go through an ‘awkward phase’, though that might have just been Hiccup’s biased opinion, so the change for her was less dramatic, but it was there. She still had that sharpness, though, that sense that she resented every word that she was forced to speak while she wanted to be concentrating on something else.

Then Snotlout appeared. He ’d always been at least twice times Hiccup’s size, but Hiccup had hoped that five years of manual labour had at least let him catch up a little. No such luck. Snotlout seemed to aspire to Stoick’s breadth, and the distance between his size and Hiccup’s had stayed the same. Maybe even increased.

He swaggered up behind Astrid with his own battleaxe over his shoulder, looking triumphant, or at least smug. He had clearly taken more time with his outfit than Astrid, wearing his cloak with buckles done up, belt and surcoat. He had no undertunic, his arms bare, but Hiccup suspected that was by design rather than by oversight.  “We’re done on the other side,” he said, then chuckled. “Never stood a chance. Ah, good times. Hey, you spot something out there?”

He peered out himself, trying to follow Astrid ’s gaze, but soon furrowed his brow, clearly seeing nothing.

Hiccup tried to shuffle himself downwards and pull his head back behind the tree without making any sudden movements or any sound. Astrid had uncannily good senses when it came to spotting unlucky Hiccups where they shouldn ’t be. He got his legs under him in case he needed to just run.

“There’s someone out there,” Astrid said. “I saw them.”

“Another fairy?”

“Don’t know. Maybe. Didn’t react like one.”

“That cat thing you saw the last time?” 

Cat thing? Had she spotted Toothless?

“Looked human. Or as close as those things get,” Astrid said. “Are you sure you got everything over your way?”

“Sure,” Snotlout said. “Are you, like … really, really certain you saw something?”

“Yes,” Astrid said, her voice getting a little irritated. Hiccup risked looking around the tree again.

Snotlout had taken the axe off his shoulder and was leaning on it. 

“Well, if it saw you, it wouldn’t have stuck around,” he said. “It’s probably run off. We’ll get it next time.” He clapped her on the shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Astrid said. “Probably run off.”

“See? Nothing to worry about. Let’s get back in before they think we’re in trouble.”

Astrid squinted at the trees one last time and sighed.  “I don’t know. Let’s just get the gate closed before something nasty gets in.”

They left and closed the gate behind them, and Hiccup breathed out, finally. He stood up and slunk away from the tree. Toothless silently joined him a moment later, and Hiccup patted his scaly head. Toothless closed his eyes and purred like an oncoming thunderstorm.

He looked up at a tiny rustle and saw Jack alighting on a tree branch, one hand on the trunk and his staff over his shoulder, just like Snotlout had carried his axe. 

“Job done?” Hiccup asked.

Jack nodded.  “Done. Hey, you look pale … er, paler than usual. Something happen?”

Hiccup shook his head.  “No. Not really. I didn’t get one, but the town took care of it, it seems.”

Jack nodded.  “Well, it worked out in the end. That’s what matters, right?”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said, and Toothless made a disgruntled noise. He realised that his fist was clenched in Toothless’s fur. He let go.

“Let’s go home,” Hiccup said.

Jack nodded, dropped to the ground and walked beside Hiccup and Toothless back towards the hut in the forest.


	43. Eggs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anybody was wondering or cared, Grimalkin!Toothless’s behaviour is actually only partially modelled on Movie!Toothless’s. Actually, most of his body language is directly inspired by one of my own cats. My cat is a tiny tuxedo kitty who’s the snuggliest kitty I’ve ever owned but whose face just always looks Done. She is the Anger Floof, and the way her face is marked makes all my friends joke that I live with a tiny, disgruntled Batman. Her mission the entire time I was writing this fic seemed to be attempting to get chin scratchies by mashing her face against my fingers while I was typing.
> 
> Just so you know.

It was still only just after midnight when Hiccup and Jack had gotten back to the hut, so they ’d both tried to get another few hours of sleep. Neither of them needed to sleep, but Jack had seemed to sense that Hiccup didn’t particularly want to talk and had pretended to be tired for his sake. Hiccup had thought he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep, but it felt like he’d barely gotten into bed when he woke up to daylight streaming through the window. Toothless was lying across his chest, vibrating softly.

He tried experimentally to bring himself up on his elbows, to see if Toothless was going to protest, but the black cat just made a huffing noise and slipped off onto the floor with a  ‘thump’ that sounded a lot louder than a creature so small had any right to make. 

The noise disturbed the bundle of bedding next to Hiccup ’s cupboard-wardrobe and Jack’s head, arm and one foot poked out, their owner making a sleepy noise.

“Sorry,” Hiccup said, sitting on the edge of the bed and stretching. He massaged the stump just below his knee, then reached over for the wooden leg.

“No,” Jack said, still muffled. “I was mostly awake already.” He peeled the blankets off in layers, slowly extracting himself limb by limb from the tangle.

“Great. Breakfast?” Hiccup asked, as he worked the straps tighter.

“Sure,” Jack said, then stretched and yawned. He used his staff to push himself upright and out of the blankets, kicking the last folds of cloth off his toes.

Hiccup went to the pantry and started sorting through it. He pulled out some pickles that were sitting in the back of the pantry and some eggs and the day-old bread.

“Sorry there’s no butter,” Hiccup said, since it was the only thing that came to mind to break the silence. “Rabbits are harder to milk than it’s worth.”

Jack chuckled.  “There’s been no butter for three days. It didn’t suddenly become a problem overnight. But I believe you about the rabbits — your chickens gave me enough trouble already.”

Hiccup tried to ignore that Jack was watching him make breakfast as he cooked eggs and waved bread slices over the fire until they turned a little brown, and hopefully it wouldn ’t be obvious anymore how stale they were. He discarded conversation topic after conversation topic. None of them were interesting or relevant — he’d only be babbling to ease his own nerves.

“Hope you’re entertained,” he said, finally, as he put the food onto plates, still feeling Jack’s eyes on his back. 

“Always,” Jack said. “Hey, do you want to talk about last night?”

Hiccup hesitated for just a moment as he pushed a plate across the table to Jack, and the one set of cutlery, and pulled his own plate closer.  “There were more than usual,” he said, hoping that Jack would believe that was the only reason why he was troubled.

“I was wondering,” Jack said, as he pulled the plate over, voice sour. “Aster and I haven’t seen many raids, but I don’t generally see more than two fairies. That was … how many?”

“Don’t know,” Hiccup said. “You left me behind. I think I saw five. Maybe six.”

“Hm,” Jack said. “I wondered. Berk … does Berk usually get involved?”

“Not really,” Hiccup said. Mostly, there were no actual attacks, after all, just … things that needed to be encouraged to lurk a little further away.

“You usually keep them away before that becomes a problem, right?” Jack prompted.

“Toothless does most of the work, but …” Hiccup couldn’t quite bring himself to agree. That worry from the night before had resurfaced — was he really useful to Berk? Or was it just more wishful thinking? He nodded down at Toothless so he didn’t have to look directly at Jack, and Toothless looked up at him from beside the chair and made a pitiful noise at him. He obviously wasn’t happy that Hiccup had the temerity to feed Jack eggs without also putting aside a portion for a poor, starving Grimalkin.

Hiccup tore half the white off one of his eggs, and dropped it onto the floor. Toothless mewed and then there was a soft  _ gronf gronf _ sound as the egg disappeared.

“Same difference,” Jack said. “Grimalkin, master. Don’t sell yourself short. Hey, why did you give me cutlery but you don’t have any?”

Hiccup looked up from assembling the remains of his eggs and pickles on his slice of toast.  “Only one set still,” he said. “Sorry.”

Jack pushed the fork and knife aside.  “What, and I’m too proper to eat with my hands? Have we met?” He started to scoop all the ingredients onto his toast haphazardly and took a huge bite while Hiccup watched.

_If it was just that you fancied him_ … 

Hiccup pushed Aster ’s voice out of his head and tried to pay more attention to his breakfast than to Jack attempting to fit the entire slice of bread in his mouth. He’d once heard Gobber joking about knowing that a crush was particularly bad if you watched the person do something completely disgusting and still sort of thought it might be nice to kiss them. Hiccup hadn’t had reason to think of Gobber and his slightly coarse, occasionally tipsily-given advice in a long time, but when Gobber was right …

“Hope you’re entertained,” Jack said, with one eyebrow raised.

“By you? Always,” Hiccup shot back at him, then immediately changed the subject. He pushed his fringe out of his face. “But … there were more attackers last night than usual. Than ever.”

Jack sighed.  “I was sort of hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

“You still want me to go to the castle.”

“I still think you’re a fool to do anything _but_ go to the castle,” Jack said. “But you just can’t leave Berk can you?”

Hiccup put his bread down for a moment and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  “I don’t …” 

“Hey,” Jack said. “I get it. Sometimes you just can’t let things go, right? Listen, want to go to visit Dunbroch Castle today? I think we should tell Merida about the attack.”

“And Elinor,” Hiccup said quietly. 

“Hm? Oh … yeah, Merida can tell Elinor, too. She’d probably have some ideas.”

“You really aren’t comfortable with Elinor, are you?” 

“No, it’s fine,” Jack said, with a wry grin. “I just spend too much time with the triplets.”

“Ah,” Hiccup said. “You’re afraid of her because you’re usually trying to destroy her castle.”

“Excuse me. The _triplets_ are the destroyers. She doesn’t even realise how much time and money I’ve saved her by keeping them in line.”

Hiccup snorted.  “I don’t doubt that’s true … in one sense or another.”

“I don’t doubt I’d throw my eggs at you in one sense or another,” Jack muttered. 

Hiccup smiled into his slice of toast. When he ’d finished his mouthful, he said, “I suppose the hut fortifications can wait one more day. Let’s go and see the Dunbrochs.”


	44. Peer Pressure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never underestimate the power of a friend being innocent and enthusiastic.

For the first time, Jack accompanied Hiccup right up to the door of the castle, though a little behind him. He looked casual enough, his staff across his shoulders and his wrists draped over it. His stride was long and loose and very slightly off-kilter  — he more progressed in the approximation of forward, wavering a little from side to side as his feet didn ’t always land exactly ahead of each other. But Hiccup had known him long enough to see that Jack was only feigning comfort.

They drew curious and slightly suspicious stares all the way up to the gates, and Hiccup realised that he ’d slowed down a little himself. He smiled a little wryly as he realised that he and Jack were both trying to hide behind each other. Toothless had stayed in his larger Grimalkin form, despite Hiccup trying to coax him to change, and walked alongside Hiccup’s leg. Hiccup couldn’t say he was too disappointed — the weight was comforting.

He straightened his shoulders, sucked in and blew out a breath, and was about to start striding towards the actual castle gates and the guards there when Jack snorted.

“What?” he hissed.

“Do you know you do a little shuffle with your feet when you do that?”

Hiccup rolled his eyes.  “Not important, Jack,” he said, and lengthened his stride up to the castle gates.

The guards gave them suspicious looks.

“Please … can you let Mer — Princess Merida Dunbroch know we’re here?” Hiccup asked. “We’re here to see her.”

One of the guards looked as though he was about to make a suspicious comment, but the other one elbowed him.  “He’s been here before,” she told her partner, and opened the gates, calling to one of the servants’ children running past to ‘go and get the Princess’.

Hiccup found himself looking around the gigantic foyer again, taking in all the details his mind had been whirling too much for the first time he ’d been there. This time, he noticed the tapestries, and the chairs and tables pushed to the sides of the room. He realised that occasionally there were enough people in this castle to require eight great feast tables’ worth of seating. This room, he realised, was for feasts that would have seated every single person in Berk twice over. He couldn’t disguise a shudder.

Jack gave him a nudge with his shoulder.  “You have a Grimalkin with you,” he reminded Hiccup.

Hiccup scratched Toothless ’s ears and said, “He’s not exactly big enough to ride out of here.”

Jack snickered.  “Well, if it comes to it, you could always jump out a window again.”

Hiccup was halfway through his response when Merida came flying down the stairs so fast that he thought for a moment she might just forgo the last few feet of the staircase and jump straight off the side to get to them quicker. Rapunzel followed behind her at a much more cautious pace. 

Rapunzel had gotten new clothes at the castle. They ’d even managed to find something in her customary pink, but shoes had been completely ruined by the few days in Hiccup’s hut — huts weren’t really the place for slippers — and were replaced with somewhat jarringly orange ones. She wore a cloak, too, now, plain white, wrapped around her neck and clasped with a brooch that looked almost larger than the shoulder it was pinned on. Hiccup suspected the brooch was borrowed from Elinor; they looked similar enough.

Merida reached them at the bottom of the stairs and grabbed them both by the shoulders.  “Jack! Ye got him to come!” 

“Uh,” Hiccup said, feeling like he was in the process of being kidnapped. He shot a sideways look at Jack. Would Jack have done that? Faked a reason to get him to the castle and then stop him leaving?

Jack held up his hands, palms out, staff tucked into the crook of his arm.  “Not exactly, Princess,” he said. “We’re here to deliver news. Stop scaring him, you know he’s skittish.” 

Hiccup blew some hair out of his face with a disgruntled expression, channelling Astrid to appropriately convey his displeasure  … and perhaps just a little to disguise his relief. 

“News?” Merida asked.

As she did, Rapunzel finally reached the bottom of the stairs, and came running over.  “Hiccup! You decided to come after all! Oh, I’m glad!” She started fiddling with one of her fingernails. “I mean, it’s not that you can’t look after yourself or anything, but your hut — house — home — well, it’s kinda …” she sucked in a breath through her teeth, still looking at the space on the floor a foot to the left of Hiccup’s feet “… reeeeeally close to Pitch’s place, and we were kinda worried, I guess, and …” 

Hiccup glanced between Jack and Merida. Merida was giving him a look, arms folded, like she expected  _ him _ to be the one to break it to Rapunzel that he wasn ’t staying. Jack, on the other hand, was trying not to meet Hiccup’s eyes, one hand raised to the back of his head and trying to hide his face. Hiccup guessed that he hadn’t expected this to happen. He wondered if Jack had hoped it would happen, but … no, he might do something like that to Hiccup, but wouldn’t have used Rapunzel like that. When Hiccup said no, Jack would feel responsible for upsetting Rapunzel, and Hiccup just couldn’t see him taking that risk.

“Uh,” Hiccup said again. “Wasn’t … wasn’t really the plan …” 

Rapunzel stopped and looked up.  “Oh, uh … sorry, I got distracted. Could you repeat that?”

“It wasn’t you, Punzie,” Merida said, far too amused for Hiccup’s liking. “It sorta came out of him as a wee mumble. Neither of us caught it, right Jack?”

“Hiccup …” Jack said, a little helplessly. “You don’t have to …”

Toothless nudged him, and Hiccup felt his chest constricting. Well, that was how things went, he supposed. He ’d realised it yesterday, hadn’t he? Berk didn’t really need him, and he hadn’t really been useful last night either. So he was only staying out of stubbornness after all. And as for the hut … well, he had spent a lot of time on it, but he probably should have realised that it wouldn’t last, either. Even Aster went to the towns to buy what he couldn’t make himself. Hiccup’s knives would wear down from sharpening eventually, and his pots would crack in the end. He’d been pretending that it would last forever, but deep down he knew it couldn’t.

But he still couldn ’t bring himself to say that he was staying. 

The others were watching him. Merida ’s arms were still folded, but her expression wasn’t amused anymore. He couldn’t tell what it was, but there seemed to be a bit of sympathy mixed in somewhere.

“Rabbits and chickens are still back at the hut,” Hiccup said quietly, feeling his fingers twisting in Toothless’s fur. “Can’t just leave them.”

“Oh,” Rapunzel said. “I mean … we can work that out, right, Merida?” she looked up at Merida.

Merida ’s voice had softened, too. “Aye, that’s easy enough to solve. We could even bring them to the castle. You could have a little section of the ground somewhere to look after them.”

Hiccup snorted.  “You can turn me into the grumpy old loner that lives on the edge of the woods. I can yell at the children to get away from my rabbits and have Aster over for tea on holidays.”

Jack snorted. Merida said,  “That’s the spirit! We’ll get you a wee sign for your vegetable garden that says ‘Gerroff’.” 

“Thanks. It’s like you’ve known me for years.”

“So, does that mean you _are_ staying?” Merida asked. “Or are you just being contrary?”

“I can be contrary and still be staying,” Hiccup said. He glanced over at Jack, who was looking equal parts pleased and uncomfortable. Rapunzel’s face lit up, and Merida made a huffing noise, but he thought he caught a little relief in the expression.

“We actually came here to talk about something,” Hiccup prompted Jack.

“Oh, yeah,” Jack said, apparently equally happy for the change in topic.

Merida pressed her lips together.  “Not here,” she said. “Let’s go to my room. Come on.”


	45. Berk Protection Squad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate it when I write something, have someone cut themselves off halfway through a sentence, and then when I come back to edit it, forget what the heck the rest of their sentence was going to be. Makes it really hard to edit for clarity.
> 
> That’s not important, I’m just editing while I’m trying to write all these A/Ns and I’ve done it like seventeen times. Gettin real sick of my shit here. Carry on with your reading.

Jack tried to find a spot to nudge Hiccup and quietly tell him that he hadn ’t meant for the other two to pressure him into staying, but they stayed fairly tight-packed all the way up the stairs, so he didn’t get the chance. He’d make sure to tell Hiccup later. 

They filed into Merida ’s room — actually one of the very few places in the castle that Jack hadn’t seen very much of, since the boys usually found much more interest in tormenting their nurse than their older sister. And Jack rather thought it was better that way — Elinor might not have liked him no matter what he did, but by staying away from Merida’s room he at least managed to stay an annoyance rather than an enemy. Toothless had finally turned into his usual cat form and he jumped into Hiccup’s arms as he sat down on the chair. He scratched the little cat behind the ears.

Rapunzel took a moment to give Toothless a scratch, too, before she sat down on the bed next to Merida. Jack took the windowsill, and tried to lean over to check for gaps behind the tapestry on the wall. Just in case.

“Getting comfortable, Frost?” Merida asked. “I’ve checked a thousand times, the boys’ little tunnels don’t come into this room.”

“Tunnels?” Rapunzel asked, looking suddenly nervous.

“They’re not in your room either, Punzie,” Merida said quickly. “Mum thinks that the tunnels were built before this whole wing, so they only go to the rooms that existed before the castle was extended.”

“Oh, that’s fascinating!” Rapunzel said, then seemed to remember herself. “But, um … Hiccup, you said you had some news?” 

Jack sort of hated how worried she looked, but he told himself that she ’d be better off worried and relatively safe here than worried and still with Gothel.

Hiccup looked over at Jack, and Jack decided that he ’d save Hiccup the trouble and started talking instead. 

“We were in Berk last night,” Jack said. “Or near it. There was another attack.”

Merida and Rapunzel both glanced sideways at Hiccup, and Hiccup said, a little defensively,  “Well, I keep an eye out. They’re close to the clearing.”

“And there were more of Pitch’s fairies than usual,” Jack said. “Still not enough that two …” uhm. Bad sentence track. “Two and a Grimalkin couldn’t take care of them. And Berk sounded the alarm, too. So no harm done, except to Pitch.”

“And we don’t care about that,” Merida said, finishing Jack’s thought. “How many is ‘more than usual’?”

Jack looked at Hiccup and shrugged.  “Eight? Nine?” 

Hiccup shook his head.  “I didn’t see them all. I definitely saw five, but there might have been more.”

“So, that’s what we came to tell you,” Jack said. “Thought it might be something you … uh, you and your mother might be interested in knowing.”

Merida nodded.  “We’re going to Berk soon,” she said. 

Toothless made a small, disgruntled, squeaky noise, and Jack studied Hiccup ’s face. Had he tensed and squeezed the cat? Hiccup was looking warily at Merida. Rapunzel was trying to look away and pretend he hadn’t noticed the expression on his face.

“You worried about something?” Merida asked, more cautiously than Jack expected.

Hiccup seemed to remember himself, turned a slightly different shade of grey, and shook his head.  “No. Just … the attacks are getting worse and you’re going.”

Merida nodded slowly, but kept her eyes on Hiccup for a while.  “Well … Mum and Dad wanted more information about the attacks, so they’re doing one of their … Royal Tour … things. They’re dragging me along. Punzie …”

Rapunzel shrugged, and rubbed her arm.  “I guess … I haven’t decided yet.”

“You’d better decide soon, Punzie,” Jack said, grinning at her, just a little disappointed she was sitting too far away for him to poke with his foot. “Royalty don’t like to be surprised, you know.”

Rapunzel made a screwed-up face at him, and Merida laughed.  “Aye, you two could be siblings.”

Rapunzel looked awkward again, and Jack bit his lip. Merida wasn ’t to know, but that was a bit of a touchy topic right now. He’d talk to Rapunzel about that later — but for now, Merida looked like she realised she’d said something wrong, so he got them back on topic before she asked about it. This conversation was shaping up to be uncomfortable enough already. “So you’ll be there checking in on them, Merida?”

“I’ll talk to Mum,” Merida said. “We could all go. We could ask about things together.”

“Thanks,” Hiccup said. “But I have a policy about not going to … where there are lots of people.” 

“Well, alright,” Merida said, and Jack noticed that she’d agreed very easily. She seemed brash most of the time, but apparently she’d decided that Hiccup had been pushed far enough for one day, what with Rapunzel guilting him into staying at the Castle. Jack sort of wished he’d spent more time with Merida before this. He’d never actually known her that well, he was realising now. “Jack, you should come, though.”

“Me?” Jack asked. “Why me?” He’d sort of been hoping to hang around the castle with Hiccup while Merida and Rapunzel were gone.

“Sure,” Merida said. “You’re hard to catch when you want to be. I’ll do all the -” she scrunched her nose and waved her hands vaguely “- diplomatic … things … with Mum and Dad, and you can sneak around in the woods and do your investigating.” 

Jack had to admit she had a point.  “What about you, Punzie?” he asked.

“Well, while you and I go and do that, Hiccup and Punzie can have free reign of the castle. Nice and relaxing.” She nudged Rapunzel. “You don’t have to worry about looking all proper in front of the royals.”

“That’s … that’s not really …” Rapunzel said, then seemed to remember herself, and slapped Merida’s arm. “You’re just making fun of me.”

“It means she likes you,” Jack said. “At least, that’s what she always tells me.”

“For you, it just means I tolerate you,” Merida said tartly.

“So, it means whatever you want it to mean,” Hiccup said. 

“On the other hand,” Jack said, “Hiccup. If he’s being sarcastic, it only means that he’s talking.”

“Har, har,” Hiccup said.

“I don’t see as you’ve disproved his point,” Merida pointed out.

Jack grinned. Now this was a better proposition. Maybe he wouldn ’t get to spend the time alone in the castle with Hiccup, but he could be disappointed about that later. He’d been worried that the conversation would leave them all gloomy, but laughing was good. Jack preferred it when his friends were laughing.

“So Hiccup and I will stay in the castle?” Rapunzel asked. “And you and Jack will go on the diplomatic trip?”

“Everyone’s agreed, then?” Merida asked.

“I’ll live,” Jack said, and glanced at Hiccup.

Hiccup shrugged.  “I guess,” he said. “What … do you hope to find out?”

“We just want to see how many attacks there have been,” Merida said. “What damage that storm did.” She screwed up her face. “Mum and Dad still want more information before we can do anything.”

“It’s not … unwise,” Rapunzel said quietly, rubbing her arm again.

“Yeah,” Merida sighed.

“Especially where spirits are involved,” Jack said, darkly. “Pitch, especially. I don’t like that he’s gathering something, or that North is planning against him, or that either of them are doing it in secret.” Or that North had used him as part of the plan without telling him, but that wasn’t important to the conversation right now.

“So we’ll see what we can find out, Jack,” Merida said.

“We’ll … make sure nothing happens to the castle,” Rapunzel said.

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “I’m sure my experience with chicken coops will make me more than equal to the task of shoring up a castle wall, should it be needed.”

Jack was about to turn it into a joke  — Hiccup ’s humour could be far too dark sometimes, but Merida did it for him. “That’s the spirit,” she said, jumping off the bed. “Now — let’s see about getting your wee beasties sorted.”


	46. Moving Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody @ me about the distances between things in this story and the likely travel times. I realise that if I wanted to be realistic it’d probably take way longer to get from the castle to somewhere as small as Berk, with as little apparent trade or external travel coming through it. The town and castle and clearing are as far apart as the plot requires, Berk is a weirdly insular town for its station in the world, the woods just makes things weird, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  
> Just enjoy the pining.

One conversation between Merida and her mother later, and the four of them were locked into their roles  — Jack was going along with the Dunbrochs, largely intended to be forgotten by most of the entourage, and Merida would be performing her role as Princess. Hiccup and Rapunzel would stay in the castle as guests of the Dunbrochs, to be looked after as befitted guests, and also to keep an eye out for anything suspicious happening in the woods around the castle. 

Elinor managed, with the grace of a hostess who had planned for guests for several weeks, rather than a woman surprised in her own home by relative strangers, to provide rooms for Jack and Hiccup just down the hall from Merida in two of the hundreds of guest rooms in the castle. Jack noted that she never directly addressed him, and he guessed his name was still not entirely cleared, but then again, Jack supposed, he could never deal her a surprise larger than those her three sons dealt her on a daily basis, and her daughter at least hourly, so he supposed he shouldn ’t feel too bad about that.

The day after, Elinor and Fergus spared a cart full of wooden coops and a driver to take them to Hiccup ’s hut and collect the rabbits and chickens to bring to the castle. Jack supposed that you could never have enough chickens at a castle.

He sat in the back of the cart as it rattled over what passed for roads in these parts. The four of them were all sat on boxes, Pascal in Rapunzel ’s lap with her hands cupped protectively in front of them, and Toothless curled up next to Hiccup’s legs. If they’d gone around the edge of the forest to where Berk was it would have taken a lot longer, so despite the driver’s grumbling, Merida urged him on the less-used paths that cut through the forest itself. It still wasn’t as direct as Hiccup would have liked, Jack got the feeling, but a cart and horse just wouldn’t travel through the thicker parts of the forest, so there really wasn’t any helping it.

Still, Jack could make sure they had fun. 

“Come on, Hiccup,” he said, nudging him. “You’ve been dying to tell them.”

“Dying to tell them what?” Hiccup asked. Jack could swear that Toothless — who as far as Jack had seen hadn’t left Hiccup’s arms since he had transformed into his smaller cat form outside the castle — raised an eyebrow at him.

“The chicken story!” Jack said, waving.

“I have not been dying to tell that story,” Hiccup said.

“I would have been,” Jack said. “I wouldn’t have let me live that down. And it’s the first and last time I ever heard you really laugh, which alone makes it a story worth telling.”

“Chicken story?” Merida asked. “Can’t be that bad, if Jack’s inviting you to tell it.”

Hiccup snorted.  “He’s just after the attention.” 

“Any attention is good attention,” Jack confirmed. “Besides, this cart is far too glum. If my embarrassment is what it takes to lighten the mood …”

“Then you’ll throw yourself on that sword for our sakes, is that it, Frost?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to be that dramatic.”

“Right — you were going to be _more_ dramatic,” Merida nudged him with her foot. “But I’ll give you this, you know how to get curiosity going. Go on, Hiccup, tell us about the chickens.”

Hiccup shrugged.  “Well, he’s going to interrupt me and tell the story himself anyway.”

“Hey!” Jack wasn’t too concerned though. Hiccup was probably right, seeing as he wasn’t in the coop for the really dangerous parts, and it would take an eyewitness to really, properly convey the situation. 

“But I guess I’ll start it off.” Hiccup said, as though Jack hadn’t spoken. “So, did he happen to mention to you two how we met?”

Merida shook her head, and looked at Rapunzel.

“He told me about you before he brought you to see me,” she said. “But he didn’t tell me when you met, or how you met.”

“Right,” Hiccup said. “Truth be told, I had only known him a day or two by then. He just sort of showed up and insisted on hanging around, so I tried to put him to work to make him leave. I didn’t know a lot at that point, so when I asked him if he could handle getting the eggs from the chickens, and he said he could, I took him at his word. And then I really put my foot in it by telling him to use common sense.” 

“Joke’s on you for making assumptions,” Jack interjected.

“Joke’s on you for disturbing my chickens,” Hiccup responded.

Jack made a scrunched-up face at him, like Merida did when he teased her.

The quickest of grins flashed across Hiccup ’s face, and even when it was gone, he bore the ghost of it around the corners of his mouth. Hiccup was clearly warming to his subject. Jack felt a warm little glow of success.

And some other things, but mostly success.

“So, I’m working with the rabbits when Jack makes this ungodly shrieking noise.”

Merida sniggered, and Rapunzel hid a giggle behind her hand. That was more like it. Jack tried to make his smile look a little rueful, but really, it was a funny story even if it had happened to him, so he was sure it wasn ’t entirely convincing. Even Pascal seemed to be relishing the opportunity to find humour in Jack’s pain.

“I come over and find him bowled over on the ground, feathers all over him, basket nowhere to be seen, and the most surprised expression I’ve ever seen on someone.”

“Hey, now hold on, you’ve gotta hear my perspective,” Jack said, as Merida dissolved into giggles for real, and Rapunzel’s smile grew too big to hide behind her hand.

“Be my guest,” Hiccup said. “This should be good.”

“Well,” Jack said, “I walk into this chicken coop with my basket, full of confidence and pluck,” 

“Pun intended?” Rapunzel asked him with a truly unconscionable grin, and Jack gave her a disgusted look.

“Full of confidence and pluck,” he repeated himself, loftily ignoring her. “And with absolutely no ill feeling towards anything or anyone in my mind, fowl or human.”

He glanced at Hiccup  — he knew Hiccup was a bit touchy about that, but he didn ’t exactly want to remind everyone that fairies existed just now. But Hiccup hadn’t reacted. He still had that very Hiccup expression, like he intended to laugh any moment now, but he wanted to see how the rest of the conversation progressed before he fully committed to being amused.

Jack couldn ’t help smiling back at him, but he tried to change it into a slightly mischievous grin, like he couldn’t wait for Hiccup and the others to hear the twist in the story he was about to tell.

“When suddenly, reaching under a hen like usual, the cursed thing just … explodes!” He gestured with his hands. “Feathers everywhere! It was making noises like a demon, and started trying to eat me!” 

Hiccup actually snorted at that, and Merida appeared to be disappearing into her own hair as she laughed. Her hair didn ’t restrain itself well at the best of times, and when she really got to laughing, it tended to try and consume her. Even Rapunzel was having trouble restraining herself.

Jack let them go for a moment, and was intending to act indignant, but he was grinning too much for it.

Hiccup chuckled suddenly.  “Did I really tell you that cabbages don’t peck after that?”

“You really did,” Jack said. “You told me to pick cabbages, because they ‘don’t get broody and are unlikely to peck’.” He tried to do an impression of Hiccup, and succeeded rather well if he did say so himself. Merida’s continued giggles certainly indicated he had.

Jack didn ’t mention anything about the moment that he and Hiccup had been holding hands.

Hiccup brushed his hair out of his face.  “What was I thinking?”

“Probably that it would be funny?” Jack suggested.

Hiccup snorted.  “Yeah, that sounds like me.”

“Oh, you were right,” Merida said, through giggles, pushing her way out from underneath her hair again. “Hiccup, you can never let him live that down.”

“I’ve just told everyone I know the story,” Hiccup said. “But I’d tell it again if I didn’t think you’d die of laughter.”

“It takes more than that to kill a Dunbroch!” Merida said, before dissolving into giggles again.

“Quiet back there,” the driver said, not harshly, though Jack thought that was more likely because he was worried about telling the Princess Dunbroch off too harshly than for any lack of feeling on his part.

The cart quieted down.

“We’re too deep in the woods to be attracting that much attention,” the driver said, equal parts dark and apologetic.

Jack thought about telling the driver that it was alright, they were in North ’s territory anyway, so there wouldn’t be a problem, but he didn’t know that that would actually reassure the poor driver … and he certainly wasn’t about to get himself kicked out of Castle Dunbroch now that he’d finally gotten Hiccup to stay there.

***

They ’d started before dawn, and it was well after noon when they finally reached Hiccup’s little hut in the woods. The hut was exactly as they’d left it, but Hiccup didn’t wait for the cart to have stopped on flat ground before he put Toothless down on the wood next to him and pushed himself over the side of the cart, hurrying over to the hut. It wasn’t a graceful landing, but he didn’t fall over. Toothless followed him out of the cart while the driver shouted, surprised, and started to grumble.

Jack pushed against the bottom of the cart with his staff and followed Hiccup out of the cart while Punzie and Merida waited for the cart to stop properly.

He approached the door of the coop and knocked on it, though the door was wide open.

Hiccup looked up from where he was running his hands through the chicken ’s straw, checking for what, Jack didn’t know, and stood up.

“Windows, carts …” Jack said. “You just like scaring us, don’t you?”

Hiccup flushed, and looked down at the chickens.  “Well, how many hours were we in that cart?” he asked.

“Oh — just needed to get away from us all,” Jack said. “I get it. So, how are they?”

“Fine,” Hiccup said. “There’s still food. Hrm.” He scratched the side of his jaw. “I’ll have to get the eggs out before we get the chickens in the coop boxes. Fresh straw, fresh straw …” He glanced up, over towards where the shed was, though there was the coop wall in the way. “There’s a lot of supplies in the shed for them, but I don’t know if there’s room in the cart. My tools might fit, though …”

“Hey,” Jack said, walking up and putting his hand on Hiccup’s shoulder. “If you want to bring the supplies, we’ll find a way to make them fit, even if we all sit three feet above the cart for the whole ride back.”

Hiccup didn ’t respond, and Jack wondered if he was still too engrossed in planning to listen. But then Hiccup shrugged, with only the shoulder didn’t have Jack’s hand on it.

“They’ve probably got much better tools at the Castle,” Hiccup said.

“But they’re not yours,” Jack pointed out.

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “Means they’ll be made by someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“Hey, if you’re gonna jump off the cart, at least start the work instead of standing here staring at a wall,” Merida said, from the door of the coop. 

Jack turned around, taking just a second longer than necessary to take his hand off Hiccup ’s shoulder. “Hey, this is part of the process,” he said. “It’ll take an artist to fit everything in the cart, and as we all know, an important part of the artistic process is planning.” He put on his haughtiest voice, and gestured with the staff.

“Are you done?” Hiccup asked, nudging Jack. “Artiste is ready to start working.”

“Hey, good news,” Merida said. “Have you got a plan, Hiccup?”

“Uh. Well, we don’t want to put any animals in the cart until the last minute,” Hiccup said. “They’re not comfortable cages, so it’s best to leave that until as late as possible. But we will need a good layer of straw on the bottom of them. Um, and the rabbits need to be fed before we get going. Chickens, too. It’ll be … very late when we get back, and we can’t let them go hungry. The bees … I guess I’ll just leave the hives open. They won’t be easy to transport, and bees can take care of themselves.” He looked at Merida. “What do you think?”

“Your hut,” Merida said, and Jack was a little surprised to hear her so earnest. “We’ll just do what you tell us.”

“Oh,” Hiccup said. “Right. Um. Well, Rapunzel knows where the rabbit food is. Rapunzel, you can feed the rabbits?” 

“I can do that,” she said, and Jack poked his tongue out at her to let her know that he’d seen that little buzz of excitement in her eyes when Hiccup said it.

“Merida, in the shed, there’s straw. Can you cover the bottom of the little cages?”

“Already on it,” Merida said, turning and heading out the door.

“And me?” Jack asked.

Hiccup bent down and picked up the basket.  “Get the eggs while I feed the chickens.”

Jack took the basket and snorted.  “If you need a laugh that badly, you could just ask me to tell you a joke.”

“Nah. I don’t really have fun unless it’s at someone’s expense,” Hiccup said. “And, uh … I’ll be here, distracting them with food. If something goes wrong.” He seemed to want to look anywhere except directly at Jack’s face.

“My hero,” Jack said with a chuckle. He lifted his hand to give Hiccup a friendly shove in the shoulder, but put it down again, because it was both very cheesy and not at all what he really wanted to do.

Hiccup turned suddenly and walked to the door.  “Just … getting the chicken feed,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

As Jack was still standing and watching the door, cursing himself for not being in any way or description smooth, Merida ’s red hair appeared around the door.

“If you want to kiss him,” she said, “You’re just going to have to say it. He’s got the hint, he’s just too shy to move first.”

“Shut up, Dunbroch,” Jack grumbled. “And get out of the door before he gets back.”

Merida sniggered as she left, in a way that Jack considered very impertinent and a little unnecessary, and he started to eye off the coops, looking for the least threatening chicken.


	47. Last Night at the Hut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: By this point in my original outline, I’d actually gotten around to giving you some more plot. (Un?)Fortunately, I figured what the plot really needed was like seven extra chapters of fluff and a road trip. So, uh. You’re welcome? I’m sorry? Thanks for your patience?

It took them several hours to get everything loaded onto the cart, despite all five of them working together, so that the driver refused to drive the horses so late at night. They were going to have to spend the night in the clearing. Jack had wanted to give the bed in the hut to Rapunzel, but Hiccup pointed out that they ’d better give it to the driver, since he most needed to be awake and alert the next day. The rest of them could nap in the back of the cart the next day if they needed to.

Hiccup and Merida were filling the rest of the coops with hay and making sure things fit onto the cart. Jack and Rapunzel had finished doing a last check of the hut, just in case there was anything else worth bringing. Jack realised he ’d never actually taken a proper look around Hiccup’s hut, even while he was staying there. He wasn’t really surprised to find that Hiccup didn’t have many things. Sheets and blankets, some of them made of rabbit fur, some of them just patched with it. He must have gotten goods from one of the towns at some point, because he had two pots and a skillet that were metal, and some of the blankets were woollen, but they were all old. It looked like Hiccup had tried at least once to unbend some dents in one of the pots, with varying levels of success. Everything else was woven or wooden. Even the soap looked homemade, though having never had a pressing need for the stuff, Jack didn’t have the first clue how Hiccup had made it. Jack looked at Rapunzel and shrugged. Hiccup had told them to get together anything that he couldn’t replace at Castle Dunbroch, and there wasn’t really much that fit that description. The only thing Jack and Rapunzel had put on the table were the sewing kit and the two books — one old and dog-eared and having clearly had things spilled on it on multiple occasions, and the other rough, with uneven edges, bound inexpertly with a plain wood cover, and new enough that Jack suspected it was where that paper he’d seen Hiccup making had gone. Jack suspected Hiccup might be attached to those.

“I think that’s everything,” he said.

“I think you’re right,” Rapunzel said. She closed the cupboard and rubbed one arm uncomfortably. “We’ll … ask Hiccup, too. I feel bad going through his things like this.”

“He did ask us to,” Jack pointed out, though he had some private thoughts about. Did Hiccup trust them enough? Did he just not keep things in his hut that he didn’t want other people to see? Or was this because he didn’t want to go through the hut himself and remember that he was about to leave it?

Pascal croaked, as though agreeing with Jack  — though that would be a first — and walked onto one of the books on the table. 

Rapunzel was still staring at the closed door to the cupboard under the sink. Her arm was still crossed protectively in front of her, and she was perfectly still.

“Punzie?” Jack asked, hopping up on the table next to her and sitting with his feet dangling and his staff propped up next to his knee. “Everything OK?”

“Jack … I’m sorry,” she said.

“What? Why?” Jack’s mind raced. Did she not want to see him anymore now that she had escaped Gothel and she’d found real humans to spend time with? Was there something that … Had he said or done something …?

“I … sorta told Merida and Elinor about how you’re my brother,” Rapunzel said quietly.

Jack had to take a moment and readjust, so far was that from his expectations. He just blinked at her.  “About how … I mean, we’re not exactly …”

Rapunzel shrugged and hopped up to sit on the table next to him, skirt flouncing. Pascal climbed onto Rapunzel ’s lap, croaking again. “Well … close enough, right?” she said with a nervous smile, looking up at Jack like she was searching his face for answers. “I thought maybe it’d be nice to have family that’s not Mo … Gothel.”

Jack beamed at her.  “Well, hey, if it’s close enough for you, it’s close enough for me,” he said, trying to be casual. But he knew the smile had already given it away. He felt like he was going to burst. Brother was good enough for Rapunzel, so it was  _ more _ than good enough for him.  “And hey, it’s alright if you told Merida and Elinor. I guess they had to find out some way.”

He was less sure how he felt about Elinor knowing, but  … well, knowing Rapunzel thought of him as a brother made him feel like he could deal with whatever consequences came from the rest of it.

“I sort of … assumed you’d already told them,” Rapunzel said. “I thought it was only me that didn’t know.”

“You … really thought I’d keep that from you and tell anyone else?” he asked. That hurt a bit, he had to admit.

“You never really told me _anything_ , Jack,” she said. “And you were always talking about this whole … Pitch thing …” she lowered her voice when she said ‘Pitch’, like his name might have summoned him. “So I didn’t know if it was just because I was with … um … in the tower, or …”

Jack shook his head.  “The Pitch thing … I kept that from you because I figured that Gothel was on his side, so you’d be protected. And I didn’t want you to have to worry about it. I guess the changeling thing …” he fiddled with one of the grooves on his staff. “I guess I didn’t want to tell you what Gothel did while you were still living there. 

“I knew she wasn’t … a nice person,” Rapunzel said quietly.

“Yeah, but you …” Jack stopped. This wasn’t the time to be picking apart Rapunzel’s feelings about Gothel. They were probably complicated, and the person for that job was probably Elinor. Or Merida. Even Hiccup. Certainly not Jack, who was ham-fisted at best at this sort of thing. “Never mind. Well, I kept the changeling thing from you because of Gothel. But I didn’t tell Merida or Elinor either. Or Hiccup.” He added the last part quickly. He’d have told Hiccup if he’d asked, he supposed, but since Hiccup never seemed to want to ask … 

“You didn’t think they’d … still accept you?” Rapunzel guessed.

Jack snorted.  “I’m not sure I’ll ever get back in Elinor’s good graces,” he said. “Not after everything I’ve gotten into with her sons. And besides, there are a few people who know.” He ticked them off on his fingers, deliberately leaving out Tooth. Tooth was … well, this was a complicated enough conversation without explaining Tooth as well. “Aster knows. Plenty of fairies know. But Aster … well, I’ve known him a long time. He sort of … got half the story and then put the rest of the pieces together.” Jack remembered a few less-than-comfortable conversations on and around the topic before Aster had finally stopped bringing it up. “And fairies can tell just by looking, so that’s not fair. And kind of annoying. And let’s face it, Aster only really pays attention to me when I have someone for him to find, or there’s fairies where there shouldn’t be. Fairies, well. They don’t exactly invite me to their tea parties.”

Jack bit his lip. Too serious. Oops.  “Don’t worry ab …” he started to say, but then he stopped himself. He’d promised Rapunzel that he’d stop keeping things from her if she left the tower. He sighed and leaned on his staff. “I mean, it’s hard to explain. Fairies don’t really like changelings that much. Aster just plain doesn’t like anyone — he’s worse than Hiccup. And even a changeling is still half fairy to him. Guess I never really made it easy on him, either.”

“So, when you made all those jokes,” Rapunzel said. “About how I was the only one who’d put up with you, and you drove everyone else away …” She looked up at him again. “They weren’t all jokes, were they?”

Jack went back to fiddling with his staff. Ah, he ’d made those one too many times, then. He should have realised earlier that Rapunzel would put those pieces together. And he’d promised himself he wouldn’t lie to her anymore. Still, he tried to stay casual. “Well,” he said. “They can be jokes and still be …” he trailed off before saying ‘true’.

“Sorry,” Rapunzel said quietly. “I … always assumed you had heaps of friends other than me. And I’m sorry for telling Merida and Elinor.”

“I said don’t worry about telling them,” Jack said, nudging her. “It’s only me being stubborn. Neither of them really care what I am, right?”

Rapunzel shook her head.  “They … both said it explained a few things, though.”

Jack snorted.  “I’ll just bet they did.”

“Is that why Pitch was always trying to convince you to join him?” Rapunzel asked.

“Hey, don’t worry about that. I wasn’t about to throw in with Pitch just because I was _lonely._ I have _standards._ ”

Rapunzel tried for a smile, but Jack could see her heart wasn ’t in it. He shuffled closer and wrapped his arm around her. She put her head on his shoulder and he rested his head on hers. After a moment in silence, Jack said. “Hey, you know this technically makes you my big sister.”

“It doesn’t,” Rapunzel said. “Does it?”

“You were born before I was made,” Jack pointed out. 

Rapunzel giggled.  “Does this mean you have to listen to me because I’m older?”

“Let’s not get too wild,” Jack said.

“I could be the only person that can order Jack Frost around.”

“You already were that.”

After another few minutes, Jack patted Rapunzel ’s arm and stood up from the table. “Well, big sis, we’d better get these to the cart, or the other two are going to run out of people to give jobs to.”

Rapunzel hopped off the table and picked up the notebooks.  “Alright,” she said. “We’d better get this finished before dark anyway.”

  
  


***

  
  


Hiccup was in the middle of thinking of ways that he could find a comfortable place to sleep for Rapunzel and Merida, at least. He and Jack didn ’t technically need to sleep and didn’t have a problem with the cold. He suspected that Jack would sleep on half a tree stump and still spring up in the morning like he’d slept in a feather bed. Merida and Rapunzel, on the other hand, were still human, so he’d at least need to find them some blankets. But would that be enough…?

He was looking at the hut when suddenly Jack was beside him again.

“You know,” Jack said, “I think there’s only one thing left that we can do.”

“Hm? We’ve packed everything, haven’t we? It’s only the animals tomorrow … and making sure …”

Jack cut him off by waving a hand.  “No, no! Nothing that boring.” A grin spread across his face. “Bonfire!” 

“Bonfire?”

“Bonfire! Listen, if I didn’t figure you’d come right back here after all this Pitch stuff has blown over I’d suggest setting fire to the house. We have to set _something_ on fire, otherwise it’s not a proper send-off.”

“Don’t you generally make ice?” Hiccup asked.

“Defying expectations, that’s me,” Jack said. “Come on. You’ve got some firewood left in that shed. We’ve been working hard. The driver just wants to stay in the hut, and it’ll be warmer for the other two sleeping outside around the embers than outside with nothing.”

Hiccup sighed.  “I guess. You know Pitch arrived the day after we had the last bonfire, right?”

“And tomorrow we’ll be gone,” Jack pointed out.

Hiccup looked sideways at him. He remembered the talk he ’d had with Aster, and the warnings Aster had given him about Jack. Not a bad person, but … thoughtless.

He pushed his hair back from his face. Well  … Jack wasn’t … wrong about Rapunzel and Merida. It’d get cold in the middle of the night, and if he gave them the blankets, the embers of a bonfire might just do …

He sighed.  “I’ll get the wood,” he said.

“Hey, don’t go out of your way to sound enthusiastic or anything,” Jack said. “You can tell me it’s a bad idea if you don’t want to. It’s not like I haven’t heard it before.”

Hiccup tried for a smile. Having heard it before didn ’t mean not being bothered by it. “I’m just being paranoid,” he said. “You’re right about keeping the others warm.”

“Right,” Jack said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but seemed to think better of it. He turned and called, “Hey, Princess! Punzie! Come help us clear the bonfire area!”

“Great!” Merida shouted back, and she and Rapunzel started towards the big, charred circle where they’d had their last bonfire, to prepare it for the new one.

Hiccup sighed and went to his firewood store. On the way there, he thought of the driver, who had already set up inside the hut. He knocked on the door and said,  “We’re having a fire. You can join us if you like.”

There was a pause, and then,  “No, thanks,” the driver said from inside.

Hiccup got the distinct impression that the driver was happier spending as little time around Jack  — a confirmed fairy as far as the driver was concerned — as possible. He didn ’t want to have that particular argument just now, and that was better sorted out back at the Castle anyway.

“Suit yourself,” he said to the closed door, feeling a little sting of annoyance that the driver had the gall to be discourteous while locking Hiccup out of his own house, and fetched the firewood.

The bonfire this time was much more subdued than the last, and after a while, Hiccup was left staring at the fire, sitting next to Jack with Toothless curled up on his lap, while Merida and Rapunzel dozed off, wrapped in the blankets taken from the hut and cuddled up to one another. Jack had promised to stay awake until the fire was out, and Hiccup hadn ’t said anything, but intended to stay up until Jack went to sleep anyway.

He and Jack had sat in silence for a while after Merida and Rapunzel had stopped talking, watching the fire slowly die down. 

“I’ll miss it here,” Hiccup said, finally.

Jack just nodded.

“I almost … had everything just the way I wanted it,” Hiccup said.

“No you didn’t,” Jack said, still looking at the fire. “You’d just find new projects. You wouldn’t ever really be _done_ improving the hut.”

“Well …” Hiccup sighed. “Maybe that’s true.”

“Sorry,” Jack said. “That … sounded harsher than I meant.”

“I don’t mind,” Hiccup said.

There was silence for a long moment, then Jack suddenly said,  “Why’d we have to meet just before Pitch and North started … whatever it is they’re doing?” 

Hiccup blinked. Jack sounded genuinely frustrated  … even angry. That wasn’t something he’d expected to hear from Jack.

“Just … bad luck, I guess,” Hiccup said, knowing it wasn’t the right thing to say. He half wished he could just have said nothing, but Jack seemed to be waiting for a response and the silence would have been even worse.

“Bad luck,” Jack said spitefully. “I liked this place, too, you know? It’s quiet here, and it’s cozy. It’s close to everything. I could have taken you to see Punzie. And we could have gone and met Merida on her morning rides. You could have gone to have tea with Aster, and probably had fun with him without me. That’s alright, I know he and I aren’t really close friends. But you would have gotten on with him.” He looked up at Hiccup, resting the side of his head on arms that were folded over his knees. It was hard to read his expression with his head sideways, and Hiccup had heard enough in Jack’s voice that he really didn’t want to try. 

Hiccup poked the fire and a part of the wood fell away into the ashes.

“We could have had fun,” Jack continued, after leaving a silence that Hiccup didn’t know how to fill. “It could have been … really fun.”

“We’ll … manage,” Hiccup said. He tried a smile, but knew it came out as a sort of lopsided, sarcastic thing. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s managing.”

“Yeah, but … don’t you ever want to do more than manage?” Jack asked.

“I’m not used to that much success,” Hiccup said. “I’m not sure what I’d do with myself if I suddenly had it easy. Probably get even more paranoid and suspicious. And then I’d be no fun at all.”

Jack sighed again and fell backwards so he was lying on his back and looking up at the night sky as clouds gusted across it, and Hiccup knew he ’d said the wrong thing.

“Careful,” Jack said after a silence. “You keep making jokes like that, I might have to stop being self-pitying and worry about you.”

“Far be it from me to impose,” Hiccup said. 

Jack let out a quiet chuckle, and the conversation ended there. Hiccup didn ’t know for sure — neither of them said anything — but he suspected that neither he nor Jack went to sleep that night.


	48. Private Conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I know. It took me long enough.

When they got back to Castle Dunbroch, it was even more a-bustle than when they left. Big covered carts were being stocked and provisioned, and Queen Elinor seemed to be up to her eyeballs with queries about who should be moving where, and when.

In the end, rather than bother people to make two new hutches, Hiccup left his chickens and rabbits with the groundskeepers so they could be introduced to the Castle ’s pens. Queen Elinor’s assured him repeatedly that, should the time come for him to leave, he could choose any animals he wanted to take back with him. The assurance was hastily given, in between instructions on where to take particular boxes or crates, but Hiccup appreciated it anyway. Still, though, with the coops cleared away, and his hut all the way over the other side of the forest, he couldn’t help feeling like his life had been tidied up, packed away and portioned out among the castle. Toothless was in his small form, sitting in Hiccup’s arms with his paws on Hiccup’s shoulder, so that he wasn’t getting underfoot.

Even more so, somehow, since Jack would be leaving the next morning with the carts, and wouldn ’t be back for who knew how long. And Merida, he supposed. Merida was the one who knew how the castle worked. Staying in the castle while she was away felt like breaking into a friend’s house and staying in their room without permission. That was what really had him off-kilter, he was sure.

But still, his mind had gone to Jack first.

He scratched Toothless behind the ears.  “Guess you should get used to me complaining,” Hiccup said. “I’m probably going to be insufferable for a while.”

“Aw, going to miss us?” Jack asked. Hiccup turned — Jack was standing beside him, and Hiccup realised he’d just sort of been watching the space where his chickens and rabbits had been, still holding Toothless.

“Shouldn’t you be packing or something?” Hiccup asked, mostly in surprise.

“Do I look like someone who owns a lot of things?” Jack asked. “Actually, Merida’s starting to give me a look like if I don’t stop talking to her, she’ll hang me from a tree and use me for target practice. They’ve assigned someone they actually trust to wrangle the triplets today. And I know for a fact that nobody else in the castle has time for me right now. So … want to help me get out from under everyone’s feet?”

“You annoyed Rapunzel till she politely requested you find somewhere else to go?” Hiccup said. “Damn, didn’t know she had it in her.”

Jack gave him a Look.  “Or you know, you might not  _ actually _ be my last choice of people to talk to. ”

“That can’t be right,” Hiccup said, but he let Toothless down and nodded his head towards the laundry. It was more deserted than the rest of the castle, with the lines already full of laundry that wouldn’t be dry for several hours yet. Hiccup didn’t say anything until they were very close to the lines. He knew that all the people hurrying around the Castle had far better things to do than to listen in on their conversation, of course. It was more that he had to work up the courage for what he was about to say.

But then they were at the lines and he was out of excuses, so he took a deep breath and said,  “I … don’t mind.”

“Hm?” Jack said, turning to face him. “Don’t mind what?”

“You’re going to be at Berk, right?” Hiccup asked. “I don’t mind … if you find out anything. About me, I mean.”

“I wasn’t going to go looking,” Jack said.

“I believe you,” Hiccup said, though he knew that wasn’t exactly true. Jack might not _mean_ to, but Hiccup knew he couldn’t be sure that Jack wouldn’t find a way to justify poking around if the temptation was offered. He added, “It’s just … you might find something out anyway, by accident.” _That_ part was true, at least. Hiccup had found out lots of things he’d never meant to know in Berk.

Still, that little moment of doubting Jack bothered him. He knew he was always too paranoid about these things. Maybe Aster ’s warning was still making him too suspicious as well. Well … he’d have plenty of time alone to figure that out, wouldn’t he?

“I’m really good at not hearing stuff I don’t want to hear,” Jack said, with a grin that was just a little brittle. 

“I just wanted you to know that you don’t have to be,” Hiccup said. That was _definitely_ Jack just trying to make him feel better.

“Hey, tell you what,” Jack said. “If I hear anything, I’ll tell you a bit about me, too. To keep it fair.”

Hiccup snorted.  “Fair … You know we don’t have to keep worrying about that? It seems a little silly to be keeping score.”

Jack shrugged.  “Well, whatever works. Actually I came here to tell  _ you _ something. ”

“What is it?”

“I told Rapunzel something about myself when I brought her to the castle,” Jack said. “Because it sort of … concerns her too. She didn’t know that nobody else knew, so she told Merida and Elinor.”

“You don’t have to tell me just because they know,” Hiccup said, quickly.

They were walking between the rows of laundry hanging out to dry now. The breeze was only gentle, but every so often an arm of a tunic or undershirt would flip up enough that it hit one or the other of them in the arm or the face.

Jack paused and considered the question.  “Hey, I’ll still tell you, but do you mind if I ask you a question first?”

“Go ahead.”

“I can’t imagine you’re not at least a little curious,” Jack said. “Right?”

“Is this the question?” Hiccup teased, but quickly relented. “Sure I am. I think anyone would be, right?”

“Well, I certainly would be,” Jack said. “Am. About you. You know. Um. Not really the point. But my actual question is: Why do you always tell me not to tell you things, if you’re curious?”

Hiccup thought for a moment.  “I just know what it’s like when the only thing that’s really your choice is what you do and don’t tell people. I just don’t want to know things about you unless you want me to know them. Otherwise, I don’t know. It feels like stealing.”

He shrugged, mostly just to cut himself off. He was starting to ramble.

Jack had turned a strange colour  — was that what a blush looked like on cold, blue-ish skin?  “Thanks” he said.

Hiccup shrugged.  “And hey, you’ve always been curious about me but you never asked, either.”

Jack snorted.  “Yeah, but I didn’t have any big philosophical reason or anything. I just didn’t want you to hate me.”

Hiccup snorted.  “Well, mission accomplished.”

Jack chuckled.

The silence stretched long and awkward and then Hiccup felt something touch his hand. Jack ’s fingers snaked in between his and his hand closed over Hiccup’s. Hiccup tensed in surprise, even as his own fingers closed over Jack’s.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that,” Jack said. “I actually … want you to know.”

For once, Hiccup was having trouble thinking of something to say, so he just squeezed Jack ’s hand.

Jack squeezed it back.

“Your timing is perfect as always,” Hiccup said. “You’re leaving tomorrow, you know.”

“I know!” Jack complained, drawing out the words into a groan.

Hiccup chuckled.  “So … what Merida said to you after I went to the shed to get chicken feed?”

Jack turned another, even more interesting, shade.  “You … heard that?”

“She’s not subtle,” Hiccup said.

Jack looked up at Hiccup.  “And … was she right?”

“You’re, uh … not subtle either,” Hiccup said, rubbing the back of his head.

“I was kinda trying not to be,” Jack said, a little pointedly, then he grinned. “So —”

Hiccup worked up his courage and, while Jack was talking, put his hand under Jack ’s chin and brought their lips together.

It was awkward. Jack was halfway through a word, so their teeth clacked and Jack nearly bit Hiccup in surprise. The corner of a bedsheet hit Hiccup in the ear.

But it was worth it.

Hiccup pulled away, then grinned, and said,  “But I can’t let Merida be right about everything, can I?”

Jack let out a strange, shaky breath that Hiccup suspected was supposed to be a groan at his terrible joke, but hadn ’t come out right. He rested his head on Hiccup’s shoulder.

“Didn’t realise how tense I was about that,” he mumbled.

Hiccup wrapped his arms around Jack and felt Jack ’s arms wrap around his back. 

The sheet hit him in the face again.

“First thing we’re doing when you get back,” Hiccup said, “Is finding a more romantic place for the second kiss.”

“Make it third,” Jack said, and kissed Hiccup again.


	49. Leaving Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re: Last chapter: I could have made their first kiss all tender and stuff. If I wanted to. You know, like I could let them have dignity. If I wanted to.  
> What I’m saying is that if first kisses aren’t awkward then I’m not doing my job right.

Hiccup had been a little worried, that evening, that if he and Jack went to the same room, they ’d cause a scene. Merida’s mocking he expected and was prepared for, but what if the castle staff …

But it seemed that the castle staff had better things to do than worry exactly where their guests slept, or to make much of a fuss about it. Hiccup realised that a rumour would likely spread, but he and Jack would never hear about it, and that was part of the reality of living in a castle. So he invited Jack to spend the night in the room anyway.

Besides, it wasn ’t the worst rumour that could start about him. 

Toothless made a disgruntled noise as he and Jack settled into the bed next to each other, Jack ’s back pressed close against Hiccup’s chest and Hiccup’s arm wrapped over Jack.

“Sorry, Toothless,” Jack said, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

“You’ll have me all to yourself for at least another week or so, bud,” Hiccup told the cat.

Hiccup buried his head in Jack ’s neck and breathed in. Jack didn’t smell of anything very much, and his skin was cool but not cold to the touch, but that didn’t matter. Jack shifted back a little so that they were pressed even closer together.

Toothless yowled. Receiving no response, after a few moments, he yowled again. And then again.

“Gonna throw a pillow in a second,” Jack muttered.

The yowling continued for just a little longer, til Hiccup said,  “No, you’re not having it your way, Toothless.”

Toothless ’s protests died in an awfully disdainful  _ mrrrrrph _ and a moment later, in cat form, he jumped up onto the bed, settled onto Hiccup ’s side, tucking his nose between his paw and Hiccup’s ribs, and stretching his feet over Jack.

“Compromise reached,” Jack said.

After a few moments, Jack said,  “I don’t want to go to sleep.”

“But it’s comfortable,” Hiccup said. “I don’t want to move.”

“Me neither.”

“Let’s just watch the clouds for a while.”

While they did, Toothless started to purr.

  
  


***

  
  


The castle woke up to start the royal family on their journey early enough the next morning that even Merida felt it a little unnecessary. She woke up and tried to find a way through the tangle of her hair.

“Just a li’l light,” she muttered. “My eyes’ll open properly with a wee bit of light …”

She finally managed to fight her way through her hair, and got dressed. She wore her oldest green dress with the tears in it. It was the last time she ’d be able to wear something that was actually comfortable for a while — as soon as a town was even slightly in sight, she’d be in something ‘proper’.

At least Mother had relented about those awful caps, provided she found a way to restrain her hair. Getting her hair into a braid was a task and then some, but it was still better than those caps.

She knocked on Rapunzel ’s door first, and was greeted with an unhappy murmur.

“You’ll miss the goodbyes,” Merida said. “We’ll let you sleep again after that, honest.”

There were some noises from inside the room and then Rapunzel emerged at the door, apparently having as much trouble with her hair as Merida.

“I’m going right back to bed as soon as you leave,” Rapunzel said. 

Merida frowned.  “Hey, Punzie, didn’t you get much sleep?”

Rapunzel rubbed her arm and shook her head, tiredly.  “Guess I didn’t. I sorta … had a few things on my mind.”

“About the trip?” Merida asked.

Rapunzel shook her head.  “I sorta don’t want to talk about it … just at the moment.”

Merida put a hand to her forehead.  “Ugh, if we only weren’t leaving today …!” She gave Rapunzel a quick hug. “Promise I’ll listen to the whole thing when we get back,” she said. “But Hiccup will be here, and he’ll listen if you need it.”

Rapunzel nodded, and smiled in a way that was obviously trying to encourage Merida, rather than indicating that she actually felt better. Merida hugged her again, and tilted her head.  “Come on — let’s go wake the boys.”

But by the time they walked down the hall to the room that Hiccup and Jack had shared, the door was opening and both of them were filing into the hall. They didn ’t look tired — well, Hiccup always looked tired, but he couldn’t help that.

“Aw, we were hoping to ruin your morning,” Merida said.

Jack gave her a dark look.  “Toothless beat you to it.”

“He’s insistent. I told you,” Hiccup said.

“What happened?” Rapunzel asked, half aghast, half amused.

“Claws,” Jack said, and that was all that either of them said on the matter.

  
  


***

  
  


Down at the castle gates was where the whole castle stood to say their goodbyes. Queen Elinor was giving some last-minute instructions, and Fergus was barely visible under his three sons. It wasn ’t clear if they were trying to wrestle him or climb him, but the four of them seemed to be having fun.

Jack, Hiccup, Rapunzel, and Merida stood by the Royal Family ’s wagon.

“We’ll find out everything we can,” Jack said to the others. “And we’ll report back. Don’t try upgrading the castle while we’re gone,” he said, giving Hiccup a mischievous grin and Hiccup’s hand a squeeze.

“Or do,” Merida said. “Give me brothers a bit of a surprise.”

“Don’t get caught in one of those attacks,” Rapunzel said quietly, and entirely too earnestly. Jack had wanted to leave before they got into anything this melancholy.

Merida looked a little uncomfortable, so Jack decided to step in and save her.  “I told you I didn’t want anything to do with Pitch, Punzie,” Jack said with a grin. “So don’t worry about it.” He gave her a playful poke with the end of his staff. She gave him a very fed-up look.

“Looks like we’re getting ready,” Merida said, and hugged Rapunzel. Then she jumped into the cart and scooted back. “Now, Jack, Hiccup, last chance for kissing — get it over with now so you’re not holding up the rest of us.”

Rapunzel turned red and pushed her hair over her ear.

Jack grinned at her.  “Watching your little brother grow up, huh?”

Rapunzel just waved her hands at them in a shooing motion.  “Just … pretend I’m not here.”

Jack took her advice, ignoring the entirely disgusted look that Pascal was giving him, and kissed Hiccup long and slow. Since it was a goodbye kiss. Maybe it wasn ’t as memorable as feeling the collision of their teeth all the way up into his nose and being smacked by wet laundry, but he could damn well make sure it was worth remembering anyway.

When the little convoy pulled away and left Hiccup and Rapunzel in the castle yard, along with all the other castle servants, the triplets and their nursemaid, Jack settled into the seat beside Merida.

“Guess we’ve got a while to entertain ourselves, Princess,” Jack said. 

He glanced over at Queen Elinor, who had pulled out some scrap of embroidery and was studiously working on it, ignoring the other two. Fergus was sitting up front with the driver, talking loudly.

“Ah, shoot!” Jack said suddenly, smacking his forehead.

“Forget something?” Merida asked him.

“No … well, sort of. I was going to tell Hiccup about what Rapunzel told you two. Thought he should know. I’ll have to remember to tell him when we get back.”

“Oh, is that all?” Merida asked. “I’ll try and remind you.”

Jack tapped on his staff.  “Got any games?”


	50. Castle Buddies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Note: Rapunzel here uses ‘tempera’ paints, which are made on egg yolks. Oil paints weren’t used in Europe until some indeterminate time around the 15th Century, when they were brought over from the Middle East. This story is generally pitched just a little before that, so I’ve gone ahead and referenced tempera instead.
> 
> Also what season starlings flock in (apparently — starlings aren’t super common where I am so I’m relying on Dr Google) depends on what part of the world you live in, and where they are in their migration. I didn’t want to make an exact call on where this story takes place so I just kinda picked the UK common season and the Scandinavian common season and split the difference. I’m probably wrong. I also don’t think it matters to the story enough to spend more than five minutes on Google, and then a further two minutes explaining myself here.

It had been most of a week since Merida and Jack had left on their trip, and Rapunzel was not feeling at all like she could get used to castle life.

She had been sleeping late, waking up feeling guilty that the sun was already several inches above the horizon. M  — Gothel would have scolded her for it, told her that she was getting lazy. But she was having such trouble getting to sleep, and, well, there was nothing that she really needed to do, was there? It wasn ’t like she had to clean the castle like she’d had to clean the tower. There was only reading and painting, and she’d sat in front of a canvas with the tempera paints that Merida had found for her for hours without thinking of a single thing to put on the canvas. She’d tried to start one of her room, of the view from her window, even her favourite subjects — the big clouds of starlings that used to fly past her window in the tower in the autumn, and the swallows that used to swoop around the grass outside the tower in the evenings, catching the bugs that flew up from the grass. But for some reason, she could see the scene perfectly in her mind, but she couldn’t quite see how to translate it onto the canvas like usual.

There was, of course, a library, and Rapunzel tried to spend time there, reading, but she was having trouble concentrating on books, too. Even though they were new and sounded exciting and she wanted so badly to be interested in them, she just found herself rereading paragraphs over and over.

She rubbed at her eyes. Maybe she was just too tired. She didn ’t know why  _ now _ of all times she had such trouble sleeping. She had been fine just after leaving the tower, while she was staying with Hiccup, and the first few days at Castle Dunbroch. Jack had been right about the food thing  — it had taken a while, but she ’d stopped feeling so sick all the time. She’d thought maybe that had been the worst of it. Surely once the fairy magic was gone, things would start getting better! But now … it seemed every time she sat down, she felt like she ought to be doing something else. She would look at the floors and wonder if it was time to sweep them, or dust. But there was never any dust anywhere because someone else had already been awake for hours, and had already done it. The candles sometimes got low, but the one time she went looking for wax and some thread, she had walked into a room with thousands of candles already hanging from the ceiling and three people working over wax tubs. One of them immediately asked if she was lost and shepherded her back up to the part of the castle that was for guests. Rapunzel had come to realise that, despite all those years looking after M — Gothel’s tower, she didn’t know nearly as much about looking after a castle as the servants, and she’d only be in the way if she tried to help. And there were so many of them — all the possible jobs were already filled. She had completely forgotten to ask Merida what time food was served, but that wasn’t a problem, because it seemed that there were servants whose sole duty was to come by at meal times and ask her if she was hungry yet, so they could prepare food for her. 

Not to mention, she hadn ’t seen Hiccup at all since the day they’d said goodbye to Merida and Jack for their trip. It felt like the days when M — Gothel had been away on her trips and had left Rapunzel alone. 

Come to think of it  … what had Gothel been doing on those trips? Was she meeting with Pitch? Were they making plans? Had Gothel made Rapunzel part of those plans, or was Rapunzel some sort of … she didn’t even know what she had been to Gothel. If she’d asked, Gothel would have scolded her for thinking that she didn’t love Rapunzel like a daughter. Maybe that was true, after all. Maybe Mo — Gothel really did love her like a daughter, and she was distraught right now that Rapunzel had run away. Maybe, despite everything … 

But Jack was right, too, and even though it made her feel guilty, Rapunzel wondered if she had been more like a sort of pet. It was  … getting hard to look back on things and feel like M — Gothel had actually wanted to spend time with her.

Pascal crawled onto her shoulder and croaked at her.

“Sorry, Pascal,” she said, lifting a finger so that the little chameleon could crawl onto it and she could lift him up to conversation height. “I’ll stop being so glum, I promise.”

Pascal rested his little head against her thumb and gave her a reassuring, hoarse coo. She smiled, though her heart wasn ’t in it.

“Maybe I should go find Hiccup,” she said. “Do you think he’ll want some company?” 

Pascal gave her a little wobble of his head, expression the opinion that it was hard to tell with some people, but it was worth a try.

“You’re right,” Rapunzel said, standing up and brushing off her skirt. More to reassure herself than to Pascal, she said, “It’s better than moping, right?”

Pascal  _ skronk _ ed happily, and scurried up her arm and onto her shoulder.

Then  … where would Hiccup be? He was always up long before she was. He didn’t lay about of a morning like she did, just sleeping away the time. Hiccup wasn’t like her — he’d have found some way to keep himself busy, even if she was too timid or too lazy.

He wasn ’t in his room, though, and she couldn’t find him doing anything around the servants’ quarters, which she tried to move through without causing too much of a fuss. 

She tried asking around, but got mostly blank stares and shrugs, and a few suggestions of  “Perhaps outside?”

She finally found him a little after that. She caught sight of him walking near one of the fences, skirting around a path where someone was driving sheep between paddocks. She picked up her skirts and ran over, around behind the sheep so that she could catch up to him. 

His room had a wardrobe full of new cloths, like hers, she knew, but he had his old clothes on at the moment, and he was carrying a box of tools. When she got closer, she could see that Toothless, in his small cat form, had curled up on top of the tools. He picked his head up as she approached.

“Hiccup!” Rapunzel called, waving. “And Toothless!”

“Oh. Morning.” Hiccup stopped and waited for her to catch up. “Pascal, too.”

Pascal croaked near her ear. Toothless flicked an ear and buried his head again under one paw.

“Mind if I come with you?” Rapunzel asked.

Hiccup shrugged.  “It’ll probably be boring,” he said.

“Can’t be worse than sitting inside doing nothing.”

Hiccup frowned, as he started to walk again, away from the castle and past the farms and paddocks.

“It’s … strange without Merida here,” Rapunzel said.

“Mm,” Hiccup said. “It’s strange not to be at the hut.”

“Oh,” Rapunzel said. That was right — he’d probably be feeling homesick. She should have asked him about that instead of immediately complaining. “Sorry.”

Hiccup glanced over at her.  “What? No, you don’t have to be sorry. I was just saying it’s … it must be a little weird for both of us.”

“Oh. Yes. Yes, it is a bit …”

Hiccup veered a little off to the left, moving away from the paddocks now and towards the edge of the forest. They weren ’t near one of the big, open areas that Merida had told Rapunzel they used for the big feasts and tourneys, they were very much on the side of the castle where the servants grew food and made cloth and did everything that couldn’t be done inside the castle itself. There were shacks here and there, sheds standing next to the fields. 

“Is that where we’re going?” Rapunzel asked, pointing ahead of them to a shack far away from the rest. It looked like there had been a fence near it once. She could see some holes in the walls, and it had sagged to one side.

Hiccup nodded.  “It’s abandoned. I asked.”

“Are you … not living in the castle anymore?” Rapunzel asked.

Hiccup shrugged, and pushed his hair back from his face with the hand not holding the tool box.  “Guess the castle’s got a few too many people for me,” he said, and gave her a smile that she thought was supposed to convey that he didn’t really mind it so much. “I tend to get odd looks, I guess.”

“Odd? Why?” Rapunzel asked, before she realised. Oh — that was right. “Uh, sorry. Guess I sort of got used to it …”

Hiccup chuckled.  “It’s fine. Glad someone did.” He looked down at one hand, as if to remind himself what colour it was. “Two people have offered to call the castle physician for me, you know.”

“I’m sorry.”

Hiccup shrugged.  “I don’t blame them,” he said.

Rapunzel decided that she ought to change the topic.  “Well … what are you thinking of for the shack?”

“Not sure. I figured I’d start by patching up the walls and the roof. Can’t do anything with it until I’m sure it’ll still stand.”

They reached the hut, and Hiccup started to look around it.

“Hey, can you check the timber on the other side?” he asked her, as she was trying to find another topic of conversation that wasn’t either complaining or prying. “Is it rotten?”

Rapunzel didn ’t know exactly what she was looking for, but she tried her best anyway, poking at the timber like Hiccup was. Some places were quite solid, but a few of the boards crumbled under her fingers. 

“I think some of it is rotten,” she said. “Maybe half? I don’t know. A lot.”

“Hm. Alright.”

They worked together in silence for a moment, checking around the house, with Hiccup making his little mumbled lists of things that needed to be changed, needed to be done, needed to be collected, and scratched them down in his notebook, and Toothless slept nearby, pointedly ignoring Pascal, who sat next to him, shooting glances his way and croaking every so often as though trying to make conversation.

Hiccup took out a yardstick after a while and she held one end while he compared the roof and planks to it and muttered under his breath, making notes in his notebook as he went, measuring inside and outside the hut. Together they picked up all the rotten wood off the floor inside the hut and dragged out the shelves that were so broken that they were only good for firewood.

Finally, Hiccup stood outside the hut, hands on his hips and said,  “I guess I’ll have to find some wood, then. I wonder if the castle has any spare …”

“You don’t want to get the wood yourself?” Rapunzel asked. She didn’t blame him, but she was a little surprised. He seemed like the sort of person who’d want to do it all himself.

Hiccup grinned.  “Done it before. Planks big enough for something like this are heavy and annoying. Besides, the Castle carpenters have real saws. I don’t.”

“Oh,” Rapunzel said.

“I’ll go ask,” Hiccup said. “Want to come with me?”

Rapunzel nearly said yes, but then as she turned to Hiccup she caught sight of the castle behind him, the paddocks between them, the sheep in one corner and the wheat waving gently in another, the small but sturdy fences, and in the distance, the hills rolling away and becoming the woods.

“Um,” she said. “Can I meet you back here? If it’s alright, I thought maybe I could paint while you work?”


	51. Berk Buddies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which everybody loves road trips

The first two villages had gone well  — neither had suffered fairy attacks, Merida had been able to enjoy herself at the dinners, and overall the stops had been a welcome break from the tedium of riding in the cart all day.

But she was about to punch Frost in the mouth if he didn ’t stop his carrying on.

Merida had been on long trips with her brothers before, and she didn ’t particularly enjoy it. She wasn’t sorry that they’d decided it was best to leave the wee hurricanes at home. The boys didn’t talk, and that was its own kind of trial, but Merida was learning that too much talking was its own kind of hell, and furthermore that there were ways of annoying her that even her brothers hadn’t yet managed to cook up.

“Jack, will you just sit like a normal person? For goodness’ sake!”

Jack was lying backwards on the bench, legs directly up the wall and back bent so that his hair brushed the floor. He looked up at her upside down.

“You’re making me uncomfortable just looking at you,” Merida said.

“You’ve got your … whittley thing,” Jack said, waving at the little knife and the piece of bone in Merida’s hands. “You already got bored of all the games I’ve come up with. And you said you didn’t want to go over the plan for when we get to Berk …”

Merida made a frustrated noise in her throat.

“Dear,” Merida’s mother cautioned. “And Jack, you could be making this trip a little easier.”

Merida dropped her head into her hands.

It took roughly six eternities for them to get to where they were stopping for the night.

The next day, Merida traded her place in the covered wagon with one of the attendants riding horses, and she and Jack travelled alongside the convoy instead of with it. 

Elinor cautioned them that Merida would have to be mudless and properly presentable when they arrived at Berk, so she was to ride at a sedate and properly royal pace, and wear her riding gown, not her good one. But in the evening when they stopped and pitched the camps, Fergus commented that both Merida and Jack were both much better dinner company.

  
  


***

  
  


Merida didn ’t know what her mother had been worried about. The only reason she’d ever wear this accursed dress on a horse was pure spite. It certainly wouldn’t be for her own enjoyment. The skirt of it wasn’t so bad, but she could  _ feel _ every time she moved in the top part of it, and it made her skin itch. 

Jack must have been able to take a hint, because it only took one glare and he apparently decided against making comments.

But as annoying as it was to stay in the wagon with Jack all day, Merida sort of wished that he ’d been able to stay. Jack had slipped away in the morning before they were in sight of Berk so that he wouldn’t be noticed when they headed into the town. Merida didn’t know exactly how all that worked — she’d spotted Jack sometimes when she was sure he’d prefer to be hidden, when ‘supervising’ her brothers, or around the castle and the woods. But she also knew that he could be the next thing to invisible when he wanted, too, and he was confident that nobody in Berk would see him. She sighed. It was some fairy nonsense or other, and as long as he wasn’t spotted, she wouldn’t mind.

Then there was shouting from out the front of the wagon. Merida ’s mother looked up, but Merida had already sat up straighter and tucked a few strands of hair back into its braid as best she could. Elinor smiled, and Merida tried to return it. She still looked as comfortable as a chipmunk stuffed into hose, where her mother looked like she’d been born in her dress. Merida still hadn’t worked out how she did it.

She looked out the window. Hiccup didn ’t know that she’d recognised him, of course — he seemed as nervy about it as he did about most other things, so she’d kept her mouth shut — and she wondered what it would be like in Berk. She hadn’t been there for quite a time, and she wasn’t sure she remembered most of it … and when she’d gone she’d been adamant that she should avoid formal events as much as possible, so there was a lot she’d missed, too. She remembered Stoick a little, but not well. She wondered if her opinion might change, now she was older, and knowing Hiccup.

She wished Hiccup would just talk about it, too. It was plain he had something bottled up about the whole thing, and Merida wasn ’t good with secrets. She wasn’t her mum; it was about all she could do not to just shake him. Frost, too, for that matter. But her mother had said it was better to be ‘gentle’, so she was biding her time.

The wagon rocked a little as Merida ’s father stood up from the wagon and jumped off.

“Your Majesty!” Merida heard someone shout, but she didn’t hear whatever it was that followed.

“By all means,” her father said. “The more the merrier!” 

Merida ’s mother sighed, though fondly. “He’ll never be truly regal, will he?” she asked, with an impish grin at her daughter.

Merida blew an indelicate and dismissive raspberry.  “Ah, you’ve got enough regal for the both of you. And he gets on with people.”

“Well, with any luck you’ll end up with the best of both of us,” Elinor said. 

Merida screwed up her nose and wiggled her head at her mother.  “Aye, and with my luck, the worst of you both, too. Don’t get all sappy just before I go and meet people, Mum.”

They shared a small chuckle, and then the wagon was off and moving again.

Fergus pushed aside the curtain that was keeping the sun off of the two women inside the wagon, and said,  “They’ve come out from Berk to meet us, dear. We’ll be getting to the town soon enough.”

“Good,” Elinor said. “I could use a stretch.”

“No doubt. I’ve been out here and my arse is —” Fergus stopped at Merida snorting into her hand. “I mean. My gracious but I could go for a wee walk before we settle in for the night.”

Elinor sighed again, but it was with a smile on her face. 

  
  


***

  
  


The wagon finally wobbled and jolted its way into Berk, and suddenly it was almost difficult to get out of the cart, what with all the servants hurrying around, and the people from Berk trying to help them. Every time she went to step out of the wagon, Merida felt like she ’d be getting in the way.

Fergus had come around the back of the wagon, and helped first Elinor, then Merida out of the cart.

It had been a long time since Merida had last been in Berk  — in fact, she thought she recalled causing enough of a fuss last time they went on one of these trips that her mother had finally relented and allowed her to stay at the castle with Angus. So she ’d have been only tiny when she had been here last.

The Chief of Berk she remembered  — he was hard to forget. He was about the same size and shape as her father, except that a little more of him was beard and a little less of him was smiles. Oh, she recalled seeing him laugh as a child — and somehow even that was an intimidating noise — but her father had always seemed ready for a joke, whereas Stoick the Vast usually seemed like he was trying to suppress one. If she hadn ’t known that he and Hiccup were related, she might not have realised it at first, they looked so different. But since she knew, she thought she could see a little of the resemblance. Just around the eyes, and something about the way they set their mouths when they were being serious about something.

On one side of him was a man about Stoick ’s breadth but only as tall as his shoulders, with a great braided moustache and no beard. He was glancing between Stoick and Fergus in a way that made Merida think that he was about as comfortable with these formal sorts of gatherings as Merida was. 

On Stoick ’s other side was a young woman about Merida’s age, with an even sterner face than Stoick. She had a headband under her fringe, and her arms were folded. The men both wore capes with chains around their necks, tunics in dark browns and greens, and wrapped boots to halfway up the calf. Astrid wore boots, too, and hose under a slightly longer, blue tunic, and her cloak was wrapped around her shoulders and clasped with a brooch. She blew her hair out of her eyes as the Dunbroch party approached.

“Your Majesty,” Stoick the Vast said, and bowed. Beside him, the shorter man and the woman did the same.

Fergus returned the bow, and Merida tried to glance at her mother without drawing too much attention so that she could see how deep she ought to curtsy, and to check that she had her hands in the right place.

Then Fergus stood up, beaming, and held his hands out.  “Stoick!” he said. 

Stoick ’s sombre expression broke into a smile and he accepted Fergus’s embrace. “Fergus, it’s been too long!” 

The two men pounded each other on the back, and then let go.

“Stoick” Fergus said. “You already know my wife, Elinor.”

Stoick bowed deeper, and accepted Elinor ’s hand to kiss it. “A pleasure, as always,” he said, more formally than he had greeted Fergus, but still just as fondly. 

“As always,” Elinor said, warmly.

“And my daughter, Merida,” Fergus said.

Merida tried for a formal and perhaps even regal smile, but it was impossible to keep the expression straight when Stoick gave her a smile that crinkled his eyes and said,  “Merida! I don’t believe I’ve seen you since you were begging us for horsey rides and complaining about my neighing!”

Merida snorted. She didn ’t remember that at all, but she didn’t doubt it had happened, nor could she hide that the image was downright funny. Yes, she remembered a little of the visit now. She remembered really liking Stoick. But he wasn’t very much like Hiccup. Come to think of it, Hiccup had been about as adamant about avoiding formal events as she had, only quieter, right up until he was very noisy indeed. What was it that he’d done? She didn’t remember, exactly, only that it was loud and had drawn enough attention for her to sneak off for a good few hours to practice with her tiny bow on a tree somewhere. She wondered what it was between Hiccup and Stoick, exactly.

Stoick laughed.  “You’re your father’s daughter, all right!” he said. “Gobber you know already,” he said, gesturing to the shorter man on his right, who waved one hand at them — no, Merida realised, it was made of wood and metal, and looked more like a blacksmith’s tool than a hand. Had Hiccup modelled his leg after that hand?

Stoick continued,  “Though you might be a little young to remember him.”

“Oh, rest easy,” Gobber said, with a laugh. “You may not remember me, but you were as memorable a child as Berk has ever seen.”

Merida was starting to feel a little embarrassed now, and tried dismissing that with a shrug, which she knew didn ’t come out quite right. She looked over to see the young woman’s mouth twisting like she was trying her best not to laugh.

“And this is Astrid,” Stoick said, pointing to the woman standing by his side. “Astrid is going to be Chief after me.”

“Oh, I remember now!” Fergus said. “You … ah.” He stopped talking, apparently reconsidering what he was going to say. Merida tried to glance past him at her mother — had she given him the Look? She must have. It was about the only thing capable of stopping her father mid-sentence.

“Yes, well,” Stoick said, as though brushing past the topic as quickly as possible. “Come with me — I’ll show you to where you’ll be staying. Astrid, you’re in charge of the unpacking.”

“Leave it to me,” Astrid said, and gave Merida a quick smile as she left the group and went to the wagons.

Stoick stepped aside and gestured for the Dunbrochs to pass him towards the square. As they did, Stoick chuckled.  “You should talk to Astrid tonight, your Highness,” he told Merida. “You two will have … a lot in common.”

“Oh?” Fergus asked. “That sounds dangerous to me.”

“They’ll be running the country before we know what’s happening if we let them alone.”


	52. A First Impression of Berk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who ordered the entire chapter of Jack internal monologue? You all get an entire chapter of Jack monologue.

As the convoy of people more important than Jack trundled away that morning just outside Berk, Jack watched them from the trees. Merida wouldn ’t be having any fun without him, he knew, but such was politics. At least he got to be out here in the open air.

He hid in the woods next to the path as the Berk party met the Dunbrochs and their attendants. All this pomp and circumstance  — Jack was glad he wasn ’t royalty. He’d have been even worse at it than Merida. Fergus talked to the Berk greeting party for a while, and then the whole group fell in together and moved off. 

Jack let the wind lift him, and hooked his staff around a tree to make a tight turn towards Berk. 

If the big convoy was going into Berk from this direction, then he might be able to sneak in through the back of the town  …

Changelings weren ’t fairies. But changelings were made of fairy magic, and that meant there were a few perks. Befriending the wind was one of them. The ice was another. And of course, if Jack didn’t want to be noticed, then he generally wasn’t. It didn’t work on fairies, and it didn’t work quite so well on people who already knew who he was, but a town full of people who associated fairies with shadows in the night and avoided going into the forest alone? Jack could tap dance through the main square and probably wouldn’t be mentioned as anything other than a passing breeze. It wasn’t something he  _ liked _ to do. He got forgotten enough already, thanks. And besides, it was a fairy thing, and the less Jack had to do with fairy things, the better, in his opinion.

The convoy moved at a snail ’s pace compared to the wind, and Jack arrived at Berk while everyone in the town was still running around getting themselves in position for the arrival. He landed on the roof of the biggest building, near the town centre. It smelled like food, and there was the sound of cooking and crackling fires, and a little smoke drifting up from the chimney. 

This was nothing like Dunbroch Castle. The castle was a big stone thing in the centre of a little wheel of farms and farmhouses, and in between them, toolsheds and storage sheds. Jack had been in and out of several of those sheds, as Merida ’s brothers raided them for things they needed for pranks.

This village was not like that. There was one big thatched hall, and some houses around it, but all the sheep and paddocks were on the other side of the village, away from the woods. Aster had said something, once, when Jack had been hanging around his garden while he worked, about letting sheep graze near the trees because that ’s where the … good sheep food was? Or was that pigs? Never mind. Didn’t matter. 

The point was, Berk seemed to want to keep livestock away from the woods while they were unsupervised, and that meant it knew what was good for it.

So  … while he was waiting for the carts to take their slow and sweet time getting here …

Hiccup had lived here once, but Jack didn ’t know how long ago that was. He didn’t look as old as, say, Aster. When enchantment got involved, looks didn’t always mean a lot, but Jack knew a lot of things that were older than they looked, and they didn’t really act or think like Hiccup. Jack guessed that Hiccup was somewhere around a score of years old, like him and Punzie. That meant he’d probably still have family here. 

But nobody that Jack could see looked anything like Hiccup. Or, they all looked like him to an extent. His hair colour was common, and lots of people had freckles like him. Hiccup had probably had skin the same colour as them, before whatever had happened to him.

Other than that  … the only ones even slightly built like him didn’t look like they’d quite made it through adolescence yet. Well, maybe that was unfair. There were a few people with Hiccup’s lankiness around — those two who looked like twins arguing their way across the town square, for instance, and a few of the people helping to carry something that looked like a bedframe across the town. But the vast majority of people looked like they could have wrapped their entire hands around Hiccup’s arm and their fingers would touch.

So, no luck on that front. And he wasn ’t about to go looking any deeper than that. Hiccup might have given him permission, but that didn’t mean that he’d be comfortable with it, and Jack still worried a little about that. So, to business, then. He was here to find out about Pitch first, Hiccup second.

That building looked like it was being used as some sort of physician ’s workshop. He should see how closely the building was being watched. Maybe there would be some clue about the attacks in there. 


	53. Trespassing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all knew this was going to happen right?  
> You all knew I was going to do this.

Jack alighted on the window of the small hut, and touched it with his staff. A little mist of frost spread over it, thin enough that from this close  — and probably with a little supernatural help, he supposed — he could see through it, but nobody on the other side would see through to him. He ’d chosen the side of the hut that nearly nobody was passing, and as he looked inside, he tried to keep listening to the sounds from the street, so he’d know if anyone came past. They’d probably just walk past him without paying him any mind, but he’d prefer not to take any chances. Just in case, he also checked that the house opposite was open and empty, should he need to hide for a few moments.

He was right  — one of the people inside the hut was clearly some sort of physician, and the rest were patients. Jack ignored the physician and concentrated on the others.

Jack didn ’t know much about humans, really, but he did know that the usual types of sickness didn’t usually get treated all together like this — usually a physician just visited the house. To have collected people in the one hut, something more serious must have happened. 

He couldn ’t see any of their injuries from here. It was a chilly day, even by mid-autumn standards, so they were all wrapped up in blankets. They were having a lively conversation though — Jack couldn’t hear it through the thick windows, but he could see them laughing occasionally. The patients didn’t look at all confused or dazed. That was good, and it did narrow down what might have happened a little. There were plenty of things that Pitch could have sent, but lots of them were the nastier kind — like spiders, that hung around even when you didn’t know they were there, building webs and waiting for prey. Things that got into your mind and were hard to get out. Laughter was a good sign. 

The objects collected on the table couldn ’t tell him much about the injuries, either. He could see bandages — some clean, some dirty, though it seemed that the dirty bandages were very dirty indeed. The wounds must have been fairly serious, despite the jovial atmosphere inside the house. There was water in a basin on the table, too, but Jack didn’t know enough about medicine to know whether any of the various vials and dishes of things around the water basin were for infections, for pain, or even whether they were medicines at all. The healer wasn’t in any hurry, either — she was doing something with the arm of one of her patients while they all talked.

He sighed and dropped down from the sill. The frost would melt off over the next few hours and it would be like he was never there. He ’d better let the Princess know, at least, so she and her mother could … 

Whoops. 

From around the corner, he heard voices, and saw the corner of something large and heavy, carried by at least two huge Berkians, probably more like four once the rest of the thing got around the side of the house. It looked like a big crate of wood poles  — for canvas tents, perhaps?

They hadn ’t seen him, of course, and weren’t likely to, but they took up nearly all of the little space between the medical hut and the one next to it, and even changeling magic wouldn’t stand up if Jack was run into by four people and a table in broad daylight.

Glad that he ’d prepared, Jack slipped into the house opposite. He had meant to just slip inside and wait for the group to pass, then leave, but he was nothing if not curious by nature. While he was waiting, he took a quick look around the room.

Very quickly, he realised that he had accidentally slipped into the house of someone important. What did Berk have again? A Duke? No  — a Chief. The walls were full of trophies, including a clearly heirloom or ceremonial axe over the mantel — if the axe were in frequent use, it would have been much less decorated, and not bolted to the wall — and at least one of the pairs of boots near the door looked like they were for the most special of occasions only. The coat hook was bare, so Jack supposed that the Chief ’s cloak was currently on the Chief, wherever they were.

But apart from those things, the house was remarkably empty. There were chests next to the bed, and it seemed that the Chief didn ’t own anything that couldn’t be packed away in them.

The only decorations in the room at all were on the mantel under the axe. There was a little box that looked like it had been gathering dust for quite a while now, and two painted disks on wood, one sitting on each side of the mantel on their little stands. 

Jack checked the door, made sure that it wasn ’t going to swing shut again after him, and crept over to the pictures.

One was of a woman, who didn ’t look particularly old, but it was hard to tell in pictures. She had a pointed chin and her hair was pulled back hard from her forehead, and she was smiling in a way that made Jack think someone was telling her jokes while the painter tried to do their work.

The other was a young-ish boy, not likely to be more than halfway through his teens. He had short brown hair, and freckles, and was smiling like he expected the painter to tell him that he was doing it wrong. 

Take away that healthy colour, add about five or six years to the face, and account for working hard on a little farm for one  … 

Whoever the Chief was, they had a picture of Hiccup sitting on their mantel.

He touched the picture gently, wondering how old it was. Had it been done for a special occasion, or in memoriam?

The street had gone quiet now, so he slipped out of the door to the hut, before he was spotted.


	54. Work Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Matching timelines? Never met them.

Rapunzel felt bad leaving Hiccup to do all of the hard work, but by the time she got to the hut in the morning, he was already so engrossed in what he was doing that when she asked if there was anything she could do to help, all he said was  “Maybe in a moment,” and then apparently forgot about it. So she set up with her easel near the hut to paint. Pascal took up his usual spot on her shoulder, so that he could watch her. Usually, when she was painting, she’d lift the palette to him every so often and he’d tap near the colour he thought was best, or she’d ask his opinion about a the angle of a tree or the shape of a rock. But this painting, she did mostly herself. It was the first painting she’d done in a long time — longer than she’d ever gone between paintings before — and she had such a clear idea in her head of how everything ought to look. She wanted this one to be exactly as she saw it in her mind.

After a while  — it must have been a few hours, by the way that the sun had moved — she realised that the noise of sawing timbers and hammering had stopped, and Hiccup was sitting behind her.

She jumped, glad that she hadn ’t had the brush on the paper at the time. Hiccup jumped as well, apparently startled that she’d moved so suddenly.

“Sorry,” he said, his face turning a colour that Rapunzel realised was a blush. It was hard to tell, since his face was so pale and grey. Really, it only made his freckles harder to see.

“No, it’s alright,” she said. “I’m sorry I was so distracted. Did you need me for something?”

Hiccup shook his head.  “I was just taking a break.”

“How is it going?” Rapunzel asked.

“Well. But it’s going to take a while before it’s possible to live in the hut,” Hiccup said glancing over his shoulder. “It’s pretty broken up inside, too.”

“Well, we’ve got a lot of time,” Rapunzel said, with a sheepish grin and a shrug. “The others haven’t been gone that long…”

“You’re right,” Hiccup said, then chuckled. “But Jack was right. I’m never actually going to be finished with it. But moving in is a good goal.”

Rapunzel chuckled, though she didn ’t know what exactly Jack had said. It seemed the right response. “I look forward to seeing it,” Rapunzel said, then turned back to the painting, idly tapping the base of her brush against her palette.

“Sorry,” Hiccup said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just sat down for a rest, and started watching you. I should have asked.”

“No, it’s alright,” Rapunzel said, and bit her lip. It was fine, she didn’t mind … but it was a little distracting to be watched.

After a while, Hiccup got up again, and she turned around to ask if she ’d made him uncomfortable — maybe he’d noticed her hesitating — but he had picked up his toolkit, and was going back to work on the hut.

She chided herself. She shouldn ’t be so worried. She was being silly. 

Behind her there was the sound of cracking wood, and even though Hiccup was on the other side of the house, it felt sort of cozy to be working alongside each other.

Hm. Maybe she ’d mix a little yellow in with the green for that field.


	55. Small Mercies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly can’t tell if this scene takes the wind out of the sails of the Big Reveal or not. I originally had this much more dramatic, but I eventually decided I preferred the subtler version.
> 
> Also, I mention smallrooms here. Do I have suspicions about where the peeing would actually have happened after a piss-up modeled on Viking drinking habits? Absolutely. Am I writing those into this fic? Absolutely not.

From his perch on the top of the big feasting hall, Jack watched the Dunbrochs arrive in Berk, and everyone get introduced to each other.

He wished that he could see the Chief a little better. It wasn ’t hard to tell where he was — everyone seemed to be working around him so that everything he might do or need was already anticipated and taken care of, and he got to just stand in the middle of the town flanked by his … well, Jack assumed they were some kind of second-in-command, and maybe a successor? The young woman, about Merida’s age, standing next to him didn’t look enough like him to be a daughter, but she had the same sort of attitude he did, like she expected the people around her to take care of anything annoying or trivial so that she could focus on important things. The Chief, though … from here, Jack couldn’t see that he looked anything like Hiccup, but he was also off to the side, where he couldn’t see the Chief’s face properly, especially behind that big beard and the ceremonial helmet. He certainly didn’t hold himself like Hiccup — he stood tall and broad and took up space. Hiccup didn’t exactly shrink in on himself — at least, when he was at his hut and working. Around people was another story. But even if he was wrong about the Chief, Jack had to talk to Merida tonight. Maybe he shouldn’t be the one to tell her about Hiccup, but if she was taken by surprise and the Chief heard about him…

They were doing the introductions, and Jack saved up some of his choicer observations for the purposes of annoying Merida later.

But there was nothing particularly interesting in that, either about Pitch or about Hiccup, and Jack watched them all separate to the huts that had been prepared for the guests. He stayed out on the roof, himself, since the people of Berk were starting to wander around the town more now. The preparations seemed like they were done, so everyone was free to go back to whatever it was people who lived in villages did with their late-afternoon-early-evening time. It ’d be difficult to move around too much without being spotted.

  
  


***

  
  


There was a feast that night, beginning just before it got dark, and it had already been going for several hours. Jack had been lying on his back listening to the raucous laughter from inside the hall and, increasingly often as the night went on, the tired or drunk partygoers filing out from the feast hall and making their way back to their houses. Then, he saw Merida, who had at some point let her hair out of the braid, step out of the door like she was going to search for a smallroom, then duck around the side of the hall and start scanning the square. Jack suspected she was looking for him. 

Obligingly, he dropped down beside her.  “Princess,” he greeted her.

“Jack!” Merida said, though quietly. Jack didn’t expect that they could be heard from inside the feast hall. The walls looked fairly sturdy, and the noise inside was cacophonous, to put it politely. But he lowered his voice anyway.

“You come looking for me?”

“I wondered where you’d got to,” she said. “What have you found?”

“Nothing,” Jack said. “Well, almost nothing.” He leaned against the wall. “There’s some injuries after the attack, but I can’t see much about them through a window.” 

Merida screwed up her mouth.  “Maybe there’s a way. I’m sure they’d let the Dunbrochs in if we said we wanted to talk to the wounded. It’s the sort of thing visiting royalty does when there’s been a battle, right?”

Jack shrugged.  “Dunno. You’re the visiting royalty, not me.” For a moment, he tried to think of what North might do, but really, he didn’t think North was a good example to follow.

Merida made a disgruntled face at him, and he grinned. Then his mood soured a little. Here came the uncomfortable part.

“Hey,” he said. “You remember much about the time the others were teasing you about? Except for being very concerned about the realism of your horses, of course.”

Merida scowled.  “Don’t you start,” she said. “It’ll not cause a diplomatic incident if I strangle you before we get home.”

Jack raised his hands.  “Noted, noted,” he said. “But it was a serious question. Do you, uh … remember much about it?”

Merida shrugged.  “Haven’t been here since I was small. Well, maybe once or twice, but I was more concerned that I was being taken away from Angus and made to sit in feast halls.”

“Do you remember if the Chief had a son?” he asked. 

“Of course,” Merida said. “Hiccup.”

Jack blinked.  “Wait. You  _ knew _ ? ” 

“Well, obviously! I recognised him first time we met.” She folded her arms. “He denied it, but he’s a little obvious. I just didn’t say anything about it, is all.”

“Uh,” Jack said. “Well. Um.”

Merida snorted.  “Don’t keep your mouth open like that. Something will fly in.”

“What about your mother? And father?”

Merida shrugged.  “Already guessed, too,” she said. “But they’ve both agreed not to say anything to Hiccup. And Da nearly said something about him earlier, and Mum cut him off pretty quickly, so I think they’ve agreed on that, too, though they didn’t say anything to me about it.”

“Oh,” Jack said, suddenly feeling like he’d had a rug pulled out from under him.

Merida snorted again.  “Sorry to interrupt your panicking.”

“No, please do,” Jack said. “Panicking is unpleasant. So long as … well, so long as nobody’s going to say anything they shouldn’t.”

“I promise, if Stoick finds out that his son’s alive, it’ll not be from us.” Merida looked at the feast hall. “I said I was leaving to answer a call of nature,” she said, “So I’d best get back in soon.”

“Go on,” Jack said. “I’ll be on the roof if you need me.”

Merida shook her head in mock despair.  “I know you can’t really come into the feast hall,” she said. “But you do have to choose the strangest places, don’t you?”

“Of course!” Jack grinned again. Finding out that Merida already knew might have taken some of the wind out of his sails, but the wind was Jack Frost’s friend. It always came back quickly. Besides, it meant he wasn’t the one that had betrayed Hiccup’s secret after all, and that made him feel much better about the whole thing.

Merida clapped him on the shoulder.  “Well, we’ll talk more tomorrow, when we can snatch a few moments.”

“I’ll keep listening around the town for anything,” Jack said. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll have a look around the woods, too, just in case.”

“Be careful if you do,” Merida said.

“Of course,” Jack said with a grin. “They’d have to change the plans for your little royal tour, and that’d be an awful inconvenience.”

Merida gave him a Look almost worthy of her mother.

“You’d better get back into the party, Princess,” Jack told her. “Or you’ll be missed.”


	56. The Injured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not have spent way too long deciding what to call the village make-injuries-and-illness-not-be-there-person. Fantasy often refers to ‘healers’, but that sounds a little MMO these days. The term ‘doctor’ is just about period, as is ‘physician’, which is distinct from the profession of ‘surgeon’. Doctor just always sounded jarring to me in medieval fiction because it’s got a lot of modern connotations. The term ‘physic/physick’ for medicine is … vaguely accurate and has the Cool Fantasy Spelling, but I will admit I haven’t gone looking too hard for sources. Then a physician might also have been a ‘physicker’. 
> 
> I decided in the end to go with ‘physician’ because it’s more understandable and less pretentious-sounding than ‘physicker’, is at least close to the right period, and doesn’t have as much of the modern baggage as ‘doctor’ does.
> 
> This decision took me about a month of back-and-forth and find-and-replace-ing to come to. I think it was made more on the grounds of “fuck it I’m not redoing this again” than logic, honestly.

Her father left early in the morning. Merida was no late riser, usually up with the sun to go riding. But the window was still dark when Merida heard the door open and close, and her father leave.

Her mother was even more disgruntled than she was  — muttering oaths in her sleep and turning over as Fergus left. It was the only time that Merida ever heard her mother use unladylike language: when she was woken before dawn.

The two of them took a more leisurely time to wake up and break their fast. When Merida had returned to the feasting-hall after seeing Jack, her father had been raucously retelling his bear story to a group of young Berkians, who Merida had been introduced to but hadn ’t actually talked to yet. Friends of Astrid’s, it seemed, Snotlout, Fishlegs, and the twins Ruffnut and Tuffnut. She’d seen them around Berk that day as everything had been set up. The five of them seemed to be very rarely found without at least one of the others. She’d pulled her mother aside and whispered to her about the injuries, and somehow in between about six different conversations, informed Merida that she had managed to arrange to visit them tomorrow, accompanied by the village elder. And that was about as much of the night has Merida cared to remember — she’d joined her father’s conversation after that, and it had all gotten a little ridiculous as the drunks had kept pouring.

Merida could get used to Berk. None of this  ‘a princess can’t’ nonsense in Berk. She was glad her mother had pulled her up long before the Berkians had finished drinking — though at the time she’d been disappointed — but it was nice to know that a Princess could quaff beer in Berk with a Chief’s second-in-command and successor without causing any troubles beyond her own regrets the next morning.

They ate breakfast with the village elder, Gothi, who didn ’t speak, but Merida’s mother had a lively conversation with her anyway. Merida tried to join in, but it felt like she was trying to have a conversation only with her mother and leaving Gothi out, so she eventually just let them talk and concentrated on her breakfast. She wasn’t up to her usual conversation that morning anyway. She figured Gothi had noticed, the way the old woman gave her a sly wink, but she didn’t seem to mind.

Merida tried not to look impatient as the old woman led them through the town  — Merida ’s natural pace was somewhere between a stride and a jog, and Gothi’s was somewhere between a dodder and a crawl. Her mother, of course, comfortable as ever, and had offered Gothi one arm to use as well as her staff, leaving Merida sort of awkwardly trailing behind them. The fresh air did wonders for her, and she started to feel her normal self again after a few minutes out in the air.

As they passed one of the huts, Merida looked over to see Astrid exiting the hut. Astrid seemed to be no worse for wear this morning, even though every time Merida had looked over at her the night before she ’d had a mug in her hand about twice the size of her head. Merida gave her a smile and wave.

Astrid returned the smile and the wave, and then went back to whatever it was she was doing. Merida revised her opinion: she was good at hiding it, but she did look a little tired and the smile seemed a little unenthusiastic. 

Gothi led them into the hut, and Merida immediately smelled the pungent and tangy odour of poultices. She wrinkled her nose a little, but managed not to put a hand to her face, or do anything obvious. Her mother didn ’t seem to react, but Merida could see the little tightening in her jaw and the way her pleasantly regal expression suddenly looked fixed on her face that was just as affected. Merida felt a little of her hangover return, somewhere in her throat and stomach. 

There were four people in beds in the little hut. Merida saw why Jack had had trouble getting any information through the window. The four patients seemed plenty cheerful, and any injuries they might have had were well covered.

"Your Majesties," one of the patients, a large, burly woman.

Her mother was already moving over to the physician, nodding and smiling to the patients as she went.

"Is there something we can do to help? ” she asked.

"I'm only washing bandages, ” the physician said.

Merida hurried over to join her mother in rolling up their sleeves and standing by the basin of water. She dipped a length of bandage into the water. Earlier that morning, the water had probably been scalding; now it was merely uncomfortably warm.

"We have heard about the attacks," Merida heard her mother say, as Merida herself was busy with figuring out the best way to scrub the bandage. She really couldn't avoid wrinkling her nose this time. Oh, she had dressed plenty of her own wounds in her time. You didn't go riding and hunting as often as Merida did without learning a thing or two about wounds. But it was different when it was someone else's blood, and especially when it was an old bandage that had started to go a bit gooey.

Gothi tapped her on the wrist and, her own sleeves pulled up, started to wash a bandage, glancing up at Merida occasionally to see if she was watching. Merida tried to follow her instructions as closely as possible while also trying to listen in on her mother ’s conversation. It was difficult, but Gothi seemed satisfied enough with her efforts. Merida put the wet, clean bandage aside and picked up another.

“We heard that they’re getting worse,” Elinor said, when it became clear that the physician wouldn’t respond to her first comment.

“Not enough to keep a Berk warrior down!” one of the patients said from the bed, and the physician gave him a tight smile. 

“The things from the woods,” the physician said. “They’ve always come by on occasion, but since that storm …”

“Was there much damage from the storm?” Merida asked. Her mother looked over at her, and for a moment Merida wondered if she had said something indelicate again, but her mother gave her a little nod, and Merida smiled.

“No, not much,” the physician said, for the first time, a little pride in her voice. “We build houses hardy in Berk.” She laid a bandage, now scrubbed clean, over the side of the basin and picked up another. Then she looked directly at Merida and her mother. “Your Majesties, I don’t mean to be impertinent. But you is something wrong? The attacks and the storm, and then your visit was very spontaneous…”

Merida glanced at her mother. 

“No impertinence,” Elinor said, still concentrating on the bandage. “And it’s no bother.” She lay the now-clean bandage neatly over the edge of the basin. “My husband, the King, will be talking about that with your Chief today.”

“They are out hunting, aren’t they?” the physician asked.

“Since dawn,” Elinor confirmed. “I hear that the Chief has been looking for the source of the attacks.”

The physician nodded.  “Occasionally. The Chief has …” she paused. “He takes the attacks personally.”

Elinor nodded solemnly, and Merida finally finished scrubbing the last bandage clean.

“The injuries, are they very bad?” Merida asked, as she did. Jack had wanted more information about the injuries themselves, and this seemed the perfect moment to ask.

“No,” the physician said. “Thank goodness. Sometimes bites, sometimes claws. I’ve seen a few axe wounds, too. Maybe from something with a weapon, maybe because the attacks come at night, and people get overzealous sometimes.”

Merida made a mental note to ask Jack if there might be any of Pitch ’s creatures who could cause that sort of confusion. 

The bandages were finished now, and Merida laid the last one over the basin. 

“We’ve not seen the end of it, then,” the physician said, picking up a dry bandage and starting to roll it up.

“I’m afraid not,” Elinor said.

Horns sounded in the distance. Elinor wiped her hands on a towel next to the basin, and inclined her head to the physician.  “I believe that will be my husband now. Thank you for letting us take your time.”


	57. Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeskipping: A time-honoured tradition when nobody cares about places that aren’t Berk or Dunbroch Castle including the author.
> 
> Alternate note — Timeskipping: A time-honoured tradition when your fic is already 104 goddamned chapters long and you aren’t about to add like six more chapters of plot just to cover all the villages that don’t have named characters in them.

In the cart on the way home, after town after town of visits, Merida had finally been allowed to change back into her comfortable outfit. She sprawled out across the bench in the cart, despite Jack ’s grinning at her. Jack, of course, had made all the jabs he could think of about her finally relaxing and being herself after having to be a princess for so long, until he’d finally stopped getting a reaction from her, and started receiving glares from Elinor.

“I just can’t believe it,” Merida groaned for the third time.

“You’re obviously dying to tell us why,” Jack said. “Why don’t you just go ahead?”

Merida gave him a withering glare.  “Seven towns, four attacks within the last week and we didn’t find out  _ anything _ ! Nothing useful at all! ”

“These things happen sometimes,” Elinor said. “Try not to get too upset about it, dear. We did a lot of good this trip, even if we didn’t get what _we_ wanted.”

“Ugh,” Merida said.

Jack chuckled.  “Impatient,” he chided her.

“Well, don’t just be making fun of me!” Merida said. “You’re the one with the most experience with fairies. Can’t you think of any way we could be figuring things out? Any more clues we can follow?”

Jack ’s forehead creased. He didn’t really want to have to think about that question. He did, if he was honest, know one avenue that he might still get something from … he didn’t expect much, and North wouldn’t just do it for Jack’s sake, but there might be a way …

“You turned all sour,” Merida said. “What did you just think of?”

Jack sighed, and slipped down into the chair.  “Sorry, Princess. Guess you’re right. I thought of something.”

He looked over at Her Majesty the Queen, who had put her sewing down and was looking at him.

“Jack?” she asked, with a tone of polite curiosity that Jack couldn’t help but feel was entirely feigned. 

“I guess I know a few people,” Jack said. “I already tried asking them, in a way … but I guess I could try again.”

“You don’t think it’ll work?”

“Pretty certain it won’t,” Jack said. It was North, after all — he didn’t just know about what was going on, he was right in the middle of it. The trick would be getting him to tell Jack anything.

But Merida was right, and Elinor was looking at him expectantly, and he knew he had to go. Even if he got nothing, he did have to look like he was making the effort. He stood up and picked up his staff again, moving towards the back of the cart. 

“Jack?” Merida asked.

“Sorry, Princess,” he said. “I’ll be back at the castle not long after you, promise.” After being kicked out of the Mound again, no doubt.

“You just said you’re pretty certain you won’t get an answer,” Merida said.

“Worth a try anyway,” Jack said, with a shrug. “I’m annoying and persistent, remember?”

“Be safe,” Merida called after him, and Jack gave her a little wave to acknowledge her as he stepped out the back of the wagon and onto the wind.

  
  


***

  
  


Hiccup had finished the hut several days ago, but Rapunzel still hadn ’t seen him do anything inside it. He had made cabinets for it, too, but he’d made them outside while Rapunzel painted. After he’d installed them, she’d thought he might stay inside to work on other projects, but he’d brought some wooden frames outside, and had started work on them.

Pascal had left Rapunzel to her painting, and had walked over to Hiccup. Toothless, sitting curled up next to Hiccup with his little black nose under his tail, opened one bright green eye to watch Pascal, but made no other sign that he was paying any attention. Pascal  _ gronked _ , and Hiccup looked down at him, then up at Rapunzel for an explanation.

“What … are those?” Rapunzel asked, while washing all the paint out of her brush and preparing another canvas. They’d spent all day together, but hadn’t really talked. She was starting to get used to it, now, not feeling like she had to keep trying to fill the silence all the time. 

Hiccup looked up from the frame he was working on.  “Well,” he said, glancing down at Pascal like he wasn’t sure if he should be talking to Rapunzel or to the little chameleon, “The beekeepers said they have a hive that’s about to swarm, and I offered to make the new one for them. I had to leave all my hives back at the hut.”

“Oh,” Rapunzel said, setting the canvas on the easel. “Do you … miss them? The rabbits, and your chickens?”

Hiccup shrugged.  “I was always taught not to get too attached to any animal you intended to eat,” he said, reaching down to absently pat Toothless while he talked and took a moment to shake out his left hand, where he’d been holding the carving tools. “I think I only miss them because I miss the hut.”

Rapunzel looked down at the canvas.  “I’m sorry.”

“You must know what it’s like,” Hiccup said.

Rapunzel bit her lip.  “I don’t … really know,” she said, reaching around automatically to rub her shoulder, but realising just in time that she still had a slightly wet brush in her hand.

Hiccup nodded, and looked down.  “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Sorry. I won’t say anything else about it.”

Rapunzel shrugged.  “I don’t mind,” she said. “It’s not … I shouldn’t be so …”

“No such thing as ‘should’,” Hiccup said. “It doesn’t matter if it was bad or good, it’s hard to leave home.”

Rapunzel nodded. She sort of wanted to change the topic now, but the only natural place to change it to was to ask Hiccup more about his own leaving home.

“Sorry,” Hiccup said, chuckling, after a moment where Rapunzel cast around trying to decide if she should try to say something, or whether she should just start painting and let the conversation die.

“No,” Rapunzel said. “It’s fine. Wait. Why are you apologising? And what’s funny?”

“Me,” Hiccup said. “I know I’m being difficult. I keep bringing up … well, why I lived out in the forest, but I never actually answer any questions, and I make you feel uncomfortable for talking about it.”

“No,” Rapunzel said. “I … know I’m doing the same thing. I understand.” Her voice went quiet. “Sometimes … you want to talk about it, but you don’t want to say anything, you know?”

“I suppose,” Hiccup said. “Ah, I mean, not that that’s not what you should be feeling. I’m just …” He let out a long breath. “It’s complicated.”

“I know that much,” Rapunzel said, with a nervous smile, gripping her arm tight with one hand so that her arm was pressing hard against her chest. “I just … don’t want to make you uncomfortable, is all.”

Hiccup chuckled.  “If I was worried about never being uncomfortable, I should have kicked Jack out of the hut the first day he landed on it.”

“And you’d never have kissed him,” Rapunzel said.

Hiccup snorted.  “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“You’re rubbing off on me.”

“I’ll make sure to apologise to Jack when he gets back.” 

Rapunzel smiled with him.

Then Hiccup said,  “I’m no good at talking about things. Well, except for babbling. But you won’t be making me uncomfortable if you … need to say something, you know?”

“Thanks. Same … same for you.” 

The conversation stopped, slightly awkwardly. Rapunzel was about to try and talk about something else, when someone ran through the gates. 

A chill went up Rapunzel ’s spine. Was this news? Was there another attack? Had something happened to the Dunbrochs’ expedition? Had …

They both abandoned their projects and ran to the castle, just in time to hear the news.

But as they approached, instead of bad news, they heard a whoop from the triplets from the other side of the door, and then their nurse pursuing them down the corridor, shouting something about getting ready.

They must have looked apprehensive enough that someone took pity on them, because one of the guards walked up with a friendly smile.

“Don’t look so worried! It’s good news! Their Majesties are on the way home!”


	58. An Ill Advised Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it never be said that I don't give you nice things.

Jack didn ’t know exactly why he moved off in one direction until the convoy with the Dunbrochs was out of sight and then changed to the real direction to North’s mound, but he did it anyway. It just felt like he should, and he didn’t usually question those feelings. Either way, he had to double back a little way before he finally found himself at the entrance to the mound.

He slipped inside, checking for fairies entering or leaving, as he always did. He was no fairy, and he couldn ’t hide from a fairy like he could from a human, but at least he could usually sense them coming, too. He didn’t sense anything, though. It seemed like this wasn’t a day for guests.

Jack took his time strolling through the gardens. Usually when he was here, he was just trying to get to North as quickly as possible without drawing too much attention to himself, but this time he was sort of trying to put off the conversation. If he was getting any answers out of North, it would be out of pity. Not that he cared too much  — he ’d long since learned that the only thing he would ever get out of North was pity, and it was worth it if he was going to help his friends. But it was going to be awkward, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Besides, he ’d never taken time to really appreciate the orchards before. They were a thing of fairy from root to twig — they flowered and fruited mostly depending on what North wanted, not due to the season. Today, they were bare of both flowers and fruit, and despite the autumn outside the mound, the leaves were dark green and so thick that the orchard felt as private and enclosed as a bedroom. 

Honestly, it sort of gave Jack the creeps. 

The end of the orchard sort of came as a surprise. Jack had known it was coming, but this wasn ’t like the woods where the closer you got to the edge, the thinner the trees got. One moment, there were trees, and the next moment there were none, and Jack was walking towards the castle where North held his courts.

Today the castle had the appearance of a large manor house, no less imposing than a castle or palace, but lighter on fortifications. Jack wasn ’t here often enough to figure out what exactly made North choose how his house appeared, and he had decided long ago not to care.

North ’s housekeepers seemed to be all occupied elsewhere. There were a few yetis gardening in the grounds, grunting and looking up in suspicion as Jack walked past the great hedges and flower arches. But the doors themselves were unguarded, so there being nobody to stop him or tell him otherwise, Jack pushed the doors open and walked inside to look for North.

He was only halfway down the entrance corridor when North found him.

“Jack!” North greeted him, jovially, then his demeanour immediately became chastising. “You should not just walk into manor. Is ah …” he cast about with his hands as he looked for the right word. “Breach of privacy.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I’m not good at etiquette. Listen, I need to ask you something.”

North regarded Jack for a long moment, as though trying to weigh up possible responses, and then he sighed, and reached out an arm to usher Jack into one of the rooms by the hall.  “Jack, if this is about you attending my social functions …”

Jack waved his hands and followed North into the room, which was a sitting-room with comfortable chairs, a big fireplace, and cabinets along the walls.  “I’ve about got the lay of the land on those, thanks. Hope you had fun talking real politics with the important people while I distracted the other nobodies for you, by the way.”

North pressed his lips together.  “Jack …”

But Jack pressed on, rather than listen to North ’s interjection. “Don’t start, I’m just being contrary.” He tried to prove it with a grin that he didn’t quite feel. “But since I was so helpful, I hoped maybe you’d answer a question for me.”

“No,” North said.

“Wow, just like that?” Jack played up his frustration until it sounded like a joke. “You aren’t even going to listen to the question?”

“You are not _involved_ , Jack,” North said. “You want to know about Pitch, yes? Why do you need to know?”

“Oh, come _on_!” Jack said. “I’m not asking for your secrets or anything! I just want to know why Pitch has decided to kick up a fuss all of a sudden. I don’t see how that could cause you any problems.”

“I give you advice,” North said, as if that would somehow be a substitute for just answering the damn question. He pressed his fingers together while he explained. “You … are not yet involved. I think you do not like me much. But it is good that you hate Pitch more.”

“Not inaccurate,” Jack said. “And you’re right, I’m not joining sides. But …”

“So, do not get involved!” North said, cutting him off. “Stay in woods. Hide until it is all over.”

“No dice, I’m afraid,” Jack said. 

North sighed.  “Jack, I do not understand. Every time I see you, the choices you make … I cannot help but think you are wasting time! Always wasting time.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve got any shortage of it to waste,” Jack said. “Will you just humour me?”

“Jack … why do you always come to my parties?” North asked.

“Thought you figured that out a long time ago,” Jack said, a little acid in his voice.

“I thought I knew. Then, I think … surely by now he knows that he will not get what he wants. Maybe there is another reason why Jack Frost wants to come to my home.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. North was right  — he ’d known for a long time that fairies weren’t just going to change their mind about him. They lived for hundreds of years and that was more than enough time to get set in your ways.

He could refuse to tell North. It ’d only be fair to refuse to answer him. But there was a part of Jack, too, that wanted to throw the answer in North’s face. 

“Sure,” Jack said. “But not coming would be giving up, and I wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction.” He paused. “Besides. I know someone who loves your pastries, and if you weren’t going to invite me, I didn’t have any other choice, did I?”

North looked a little taken aback by that answer.  “I suppose at least you are honest.”

“Are you going to be honest, then?” Jack asked.

“I am honest. I tell you honestly: I do not know why you come to me thinking I will do you this favour.”

Jack narrowed his eyes.  “There’s a reason you can’t tell me. If you had no reason to refuse, you wouldn’t. Right? That’s how this works. Can you at least tell me why you can’t tell me?”

North sighed.  “Is question that leads to other questions,” he said. “And you are not fairy. I cannot set precedent, and there is complicated balance to consider.”

Jack rolled his eyes.  “Several hundred years old, you’d think that you had at least gotten past needing  _ politics _ . Fine. All you had to say was  ‘it’s political’.”

North sighed.  “And now you are angry.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Jack said.

“Jack, listen to me,” North said.

“No, I think I’m done here, thanks,” Jack said.

“No, _listen_ ,” North said, and Jack finally noticed the note of urgency in his voice. “Get in closet.”

He hustled Jack over to a sideboard on the wall. It was an oversized thing, and even though it was divided into two shelves, there was more than enough room for Jack to squeeze inside, shifting some of North ’s crystal ornaments and decorations to the sides so that he didn’t crush anything.

“Really? The cabinet?” Jack asked as North closed the door. He was about to call out something else, but then he realised the reason that North had hustled him out of sight. 

There was the sound of the door opening, and then a very familiar voice said,  “Well, never let it be said that your grounds are underwhelming. Hello, St North. It’s been a long time since you last extended an invitation.”

It was Pitch.


	59. Pitch and North

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the closet jokes go here.

Jack desperately wanted to press his ear to the door of the cabinet so that he could hear the conversation better, but the last thing he wanted to do was to fall out onto the floor and be spotted. So he just moved as close as he could, willing the ornaments he was curled up on not to clack together and make noise.

He could hear the shuffling feet and muted grunts of yetis  — at least one, he guessed two — who had apparently followed Pitch into the manor to keep an eye on him.

“It’s been a long time since you last extended an invitation,” Pitch was saying.

“Long time since I had cause,” North responded. 

“Yes, you are right,” Pitch said. “Being neighbourly was never among either of our strong points, was it? But let’s put that aside for the moment. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I hear things about you,” North said. “They say you are gathering your people.”

“Funny,” Pitch said. “I hear much the same thing about you.” 

“I hear that you are calling in old favours.”

“Again,” Pitch said, and Jack could hear the tilt of his head in his voice. “I hear similar things of you.”

“Yes,” North said, with the air of someone placing an opponent into checkmate, “But I also hear you start all of this first.”

Pitch snorted.  “Yes, if you want to admit that I have more foresight than you, then I won’t deny it.”

“You say foresight,” North said. “I think perhaps you are scared.”

“Scared?” Pitch scoffed. “Please. When things were divided up last time, I was given the night and the dark. What could _possibly_ scare me more than it scares you?”

“Things that rely on the dark fear lightning,” North said, as though quoting a saying, though Jack had never heard it before.

And then Jack actually heard Pitch  _ snarl _ . Not in words  — he ’d heard Pitch speak with a snarl. But this was an honest-to-goodness  _ snarl _ . Just a sound that conveyed nothing except that the creature emitting it had teeth.

“Perhaps you could explain to me,” Pitch said, “Exactly what you think will happen if the West Wind returns to the forest. From what I hear, your Man in the Moon has not deigned to speak a word to you in quite some time.”

“I think, still, I do not stand to lose so much as you,” North said, in a calm and reasonable voice.

There was a long pause, and then Pitch spoke again, voice again composed, speaking as usual like he had a secret that he was delighted to keep from the rest of the world.  “Well. I think we’ve gotten off topic again,” Pitch said. “You invited me, and I’m sure it wasn’t just to needle me.”

“Of course not,” North said. “I invited you to remind you that we have agreements concerning villages. Perhaps your people have forgotten.”

Pitch ’s voice again went low. “Perhaps they have,” he said. “I shall remind them. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, St. North.”

“It is no trouble,” North said. “I hear my pastries are very popular. Stop by kitchen — perhaps take some with you.”

“Thank you,” Pitch said, voice icy. “But I have imposed enough upon your hospitality, and I wouldn’t presume to eat from your hearth also.” A few moments later, the door closed, and then North was helping Jack out of the cabinet.

Jack brushed himself down, and then looked up at North.  “You were stalling me, weren’t you?” he asked. “Til Pitch got here, so you could tell me what was going on?” He didn’t know if it was true or if he just wanted to believe it.

“What do you mean?” North asked, with feigned innocence. “I told you, it would set bad precedent. I told you nothing.”

And then he gave Jack a broad wink.

Jack grinned and winked back.  “Sure,” he said. “Your lips were sealed.”

“If Pitch did not want pastries,” North said. “You should have them. Take some to friend. They are better fresh.”


	60. Welcome Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, now that I’m not in a chapter where this applies, so I’m not drawing too much attention to it, I’ll say that I’ve definitely noticed I have a tendency to write myself into a corner in this fic. Unfortunately for you guys, this is just for fun, so I’m not spending the extra year and a half on three-plus edit passes to get all of my worldbuilding to sit right like I sometimes have to for my original stuff. Sorry about that. Hope it’s not too noticeable, and the story is enjoyable despite it. But yeah, you can definitely tell if you look closely where I’ve introduced a plot idea or a worldbuilding note and had to clumsily write around it later.
> 
> Also Hiccup sometimes your friends are just interested in you, you know.

Rapunzel and Hiccup waited at the edge of the castle grounds for the wagons to arrive. They could hear them long before they saw them, the sounds of wheels and horses and the noises of close to a hundred people trying to keep themselves entertained on a long journey. 

Rapunzel was nearly vibrating out of her skin while they waited  — she hopped from foot to foot and clasped and unclasped her hands, a broad smile across her face. Hiccup smiled at her, but he knew how she felt. He was just as excited as her for the others to get back.

Especially Jack.

They had to move aside as the wagons entered the gates and servants swarmed over them like ants over a dead bird, passing luggage down the line to be unloaded, unhitching the horses and leading them away to have their tack removed and to be brushed and put back into their stables. 

Merida leaped out of the back of the wagon and rushed over to them.

“Punzie! Hiccup! Ah, but it’s good to be home!” She hugged first Rapunzel, then Hiccup, and didn’t even seem to mind that Hiccup was too surprised to hug back immediately. 

“And the castle’s still standing,” she said, punching Hiccup in the arm.

“Well, I decided I had to find something to do before I paced so much I wore a hole in the floors,” Hiccup said. 

“We’ve … well, Hiccup has been building,” Rapunzel said. “I’ve mostly been painting.”

“You helped,” Hiccup said.

Merida chuckled.  “I knew you two would get along. You’ll have to show me those paintings later.”

“Hiccup has been making bee hives,” Rapunzel said. “I think he’s made three already.”

“Only two,” Hiccup said. “I’ve still got a little way to go on the last one.” He looked around, and bit his lip. Jack should have joined the group by now, if he was in the cart with Merida. All the carts and wagons had already arrived. So … 

“Um,” Hiccup said. “I don’t mean to sound like I’m not happy to see you again or anything …”

Merida snorted.  “But you miss your boyfriend? It’s fine, I understand.” She gave a dramatic sigh. “I know I come second to true love.”

Hiccup could feel his face flushing.  “Well, at least one of us has reasonable expectations,” he said.

Merida grinned.  “Not up to your usual standard. You must really miss him.”

“Thanks for the commentary,” Hiccup said. “Isn’t he with you?”

“He was,” Merida said, “But he’s taken a little detour. Said something about going to see someone to ask questions.”

Hiccup frowned. Someone?

“A fairy?” he guessed.

Merida shrugged.  “I guess. He didn’t seem to happy about it, but he said he might be able to get some answers.”

Hiccup guessed that Jack was probably going to see a fairy, then. Maybe Tooth? He supposed Jack must know other fairies, even if he hadn ’t told Hiccup about them.

“He said he wouldn’t be long,” Merida said. “He’ll catch up with us by nightfall.” She patted Hiccup’s arm.

“Merida!” Elinor called. “Your things!”

“Coming, Mum!” Merida called, and gave Hiccup and Rapunzel another pat on the shoulder. “Come with me, I’ll tell you all about the trip as we go.”

  
  


***

  
  


Hiccup knew that Merida was just trying to distract everyone from Jack ’s absence. She asked more questions about the hut and Rapunzel’s paintings than any person should reasonably be expected to. And besides, he knew that she was more interested in more … exciting outdoor activities than his hut-building and beehives. He appreciated the thought, though, and he  _ was _ grateful for the distraction.

As the sun started to dip lower and lower, the conversation had turned to Rapunzel ’s choice of painting subjects.

“I don’t really like the sky,” Rapunzel was saying, sizing up the painting against the view she’d painted, past the castle and over the woods. “I don’t know. It’s just not striking like the real sky is …”

It looked fine to Hiccup, though Hiccup ’s experience was mainly in diagramming and building plans. He used charcoal because you could make it by cooking dinner and it didn’t take any special effort — he didn’t have nearly the eye for colours that Rapunzel did. 

“Come with me one morning,” Merida said. “I’ll take you riding. I know the _best_ views! We’ll take food and you’ll be painting for hours, promise!”

“Well …” Rapunzel said. “If they’re not hard to get to …”

“You’ll be fine!” Merida said. “We’ll put you on a nice, steady horse, and you’ll feel like you’re riding in a cart, promise!” 

Hiccup had watched the Dunbrochs ’ horses parading past them almost regularly, being exercised by the stablehands, and he highly doubted that riding anything that large and that bold could ever be like a cart.

“I never saw a wagon that had as many opinions as your horses,” Hiccup said.

“Oh, you just have to be confident with them,” Merida said. “Besides, Angus knows the way, and they’re herd beasties — I’ll pop Punzie on Bran and he’ll follow Angus’s tail all the way, sweet as you please.”

Hiccup gave her a very sceptical look, since Rapunzel ’s didn’t seem to be working on its own.

“Where are we going, and why do the horses have opinions now?” Jack asked, leaning on his staff and the wall of the hut. 

“Jack!” Hiccup said, and before he’d thought about it, crossed the space between them and kissed Jack square on the mouth. He’d been waiting to do that for the whole time Jack and Merida had been away.

He broke the kiss first, suddenly realising that that might have been a little too sudden, and scratched the back of his head.  “Uh, I mean. Welcome back?”

Jack gave him a look with a raised eyebrow.  “Hiccup, if you dare apologise for that, I am leaving right now and we’ll try this again in three weeks.”

“You couldn’t stay away for that long,” Hiccup said, grinning and trying to relax into banter instead of worrying. “You’re more impatient than me.”

“Once you remember there’s other people here,” Merida said. 

“Sh!” Rapunzel said. “Just let them be …”

“She’ll never let us be, Punzie,” Jack said. “It’s not in her nature. Besides, you’re my big sister. Aren’t you supposed to be telling me to have my personal life somewhere else?” He grinned. “C’mon, you’ve had a whole three weeks to practice this ‘big sister’ thing! I’d have thought you’d have it down pat!”

“You knew you were my little brother for years before I did,” Rapunzel pointed out, “And you didn’t practice for all that time, either.”

Merida barked out a laugh that made her hair fly into her face, and Hiccup snorted.

“Ouch,” Jack said. “Hiccup, is this your fault?”

“I hate to interrupt this lovely reunion,” Merida said. “But you left in a hurry and didn’t explain much, Frost. You interested in revealing some of those details yet?”

Jack sighed.  “This is why I talk to you, Punzie,” he said. “Merida always makes me get to the important things too quickly.”

Hiccup looked down  — as they had been talking, Jack had wormed his hand into Hiccup ’s and entwined their fingers. He looked up again quickly. He didn’t want to invite any more teasing. 

“Let’s go inside for the story,” Jack said. “Hiccup, when you were talking to Elinor, what was that powerful fairy she mentioned? Was it the West Wind?” 

“I remember that,” Merida said. “She said something about the West Wind, and the storms. Why?” 

“Well,” Jack said. “Let’s see what she knows about it. I heard Pitch mention it.”

“Pitch?” Hiccup said suddenly. “You were talking to Pitch?”

“Not … exactly,” Jack said. “North …” he hesitated, and Hiccup squeezed his hand, trying to be encouraging. Jack looked like he was having trouble thinking of how to explain. Hiccup hadn’t heard him talk a lot about North, either. Must be one of the sore spots Jack tried not to touch.

“You know what?” Jack asked. “Let’s go inside. I don’t fancy having to have this conversation more than once, and I think your mother would like to hear it, Princess.”

Merida nodded, and they moved off to the castle. Hiccup tried not to concentrate on how much he was torn between wanting to finally have answers, and how much he wanted the conversation to be over quickly so that he could have Jack to himself for a little while. 

Jack looked up at him.  “You missed me, huh?” he asked quietly. They were walking a step behind Merida and Rapunzel, though the other two weren’t talking. Rapunzel seemed to be too nervous.

Hiccup pushed his hair out of his face with his free hand.  “Maybe a little,” he said. 

“I can tell. You’re holding my hand pretty tightly.”

Hiccup immediately released his grip a little  — he hadn ’t noticed how tight he was holding Jack’s hand until Jack had mentioned it — only for Jack to tighten his hand on Hiccup’s. “I didn’t say stop,” Jack said.

Hiccup tightened his grip again, and they held on tight the whole way up the stairs.


	61. Lore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're not totally bored with infodump chapters because here's another

Elinor had excused herself from directing the unloading as soon as she saw that Jack had returned. She joined them inside, and instructed them to come up to her room, where they could have the discussion privately.

“Alright,” she said, as they were all seated, smoothing out her skirt and looking calm and unflappable as Hiccup had ever seen her. She must have been just as worried as the rest of them, about the storm and the fairy attacks, but she managed to convey a calmness as though she was only hearing about a simple hunting expedition. “Jack?” 

Jack and Hiccup were sharing the long bench chair on one side of the room. It was only just large enough for two, and Jack had to sit so that he was almost draping one leg across Hiccup ’s lap for them to both fit. Toothless claimed a space on Hiccup’s lap before Jack could attempt to arrange that, though. Merida and Rapunzel were sitting together on the bed, and Elinor had taken the large, comfortable chair next to the bed, with a little side table next to it, still stacked with the little bits of sewing equipment Elinor had not packed for the trip.

Hiccup felt more than saw Jack shrug.  “Well … it’s sort of a long story. I don’t know if you’d be familiar with North? Uh — St North, I suppose.”

Elinor frowned.  “I have,” she said. “I know several stories. He is a General, isn’t he?”

“Lord,” Jack corrected. “Um. Maybe he got there by starting at General, though?” He sounded unsure. Hiccup guessed that he didn’t know that much about North’s history, and suspected that no matter how often he’d heard North’s title used, Elinor was probably more right than he was.

Elinor nodded. If she had noticed Jack hesitating, she didn ’t interrupt him to ask about it. Though Hiccup suspected she had.

“He’s … sort of an acquaintance of mine,” Jack said. “And by acquaintance, I mean he knows my name and that’s about it. We’re not … friends.”

“I understand,” Elinor said, in a voice that was clearly supposed to be reassuring. Hiccup wondered if she might have thought that Jack was trying to reassure her — or the rest of them, too — that he wasn’t allied with any fairy, even one who might be helpful. Hiccup, though, tried to snake his hand around behind Jack’s back without anyone else noticing. He had an idea of Jack’s relationship with fairies in general, and he suspected that Jack’s explanation was more for his own benefit than anyone else’s. 

Hiccup suspected that everyone saw him moving his arm, but nobody commented on it. Jack only leaned into him a little more, while he kept talking.  “So, I didn’t go to him before because I didn’t really expect to get an answer. But I’ve never really been one for picking my battles, and we weren’t getting any information from anywhere else. So I thought maybe I’d give it one more shot.”

“You’d asked him for information before?” Merida asked.

Jack made a non-committal noise and wiggled a hand.  “In a way. Not really directly, but … ”

“Ah,” Merida said, with a nod. “Go on, tell your story.”

“Well, he refused me out of hand,” Jack said, in that tone of voice Hiccup had come to recognise as the one he used when he was being flippant about something that had deeper significance than he wanted to admit. “But it turned out I wasn’t the only guest he was expecting that day.”

“Pitch?” Rapunzel guessed, in a voice so quiet that if Jack hadn’t stopped speaking, and the room weren’t so quiet, Hiccup might not have realised she’d said anything at all. 

“Got it in one,” Jack said. “North … it’s complicated. He couldn’t tell me anything directly because there was some agreement or other that he would have broken if he did. But he did shove me in a cupboard so that I could listen to the conversation.”

Merida raised an eyebrow, in an expression that mimicked Hiccup ’s own. “A … cupboard?” she asked. 

“More onto a shelf, really.” 

“I don’t get it,” Rapunzel said.

“He couldn’t tell me himself,” Jack said. “But he _could_ choose to let me listen in on the conversation, and anything Pitch said would be his own fault and none of North’s business.”

“That’s certainly a fairy’s way of thinking,” Elinor said.

“Anyway,” Jack said. “I guess that means I have good news and bad news.”

“Dramatic, aren’t ye?” Merida teased, but her mother hushed her. Her tone didn’t have any of its usual flippancy in it, though, and Hiccup suspected it was mostly to soothe her own nerves.

“Good news,” Jack said, “Pitch is scared, and I think North knows he’s scraping for followers, which means he’s probably not going to beat North in whatever is happening.”

“The bad news is the West Wind?” Elinor guessed.

Jack nodded.  “That the West Wind looks like he … she? They? I just realised I don’t know … is coming to help Pitch, but North doesn’t seem like he’ll get backup from the Man in the Moon.”

“What about the others?” Merida asked. “Mum, didn’t you say there were others? Like the Sun, and …” she trailed off, clearly not remembering the rest of the list.

“Yes, there are others,” Elinor said. “And the West Wind is usually referred to as ‘she’.”

Jack shrugged.  “Don’t ask me, I’m not a fairy. All I know is that it seems like North won’t be getting help, but Pitch will.”

There was a long silence, and all four of the younger members of the conversation looked at Elinor. 

Elinor was staring off at the other side of the room, her mouth a thin, pressed line, and her hands still in her lap. 

Finally, Elinor sighed.  “If only we’d known about this before we went on that trip,” she said.

“Sorry,” Jack muttered.

“Oh, it’s not your fault, dear,” Elinor said, though she sounded distracted. “Nothing in politics ever happens in the right order.” She sighed. “This castle is the most defensible position near the forest. I’ll have Fergus send runners and order a general evacuation, anyone living within a day’s walk of the woods. We need to try and get everyone here before there are any more storms.”

Hiccup froze. That included Berk.

“Punzie, let’s go and tell Dad,” Merida said, standing up. 

Elinor nodded.  “Please do. Hiccup, I want to have a little talk to you. Do you mind Jack staying, or would you prefer that we had some privacy?”

Hiccup was about to shake his head, tell Elinor he didn ’t mind if Jack was there or not, but Jack had already stood up from the chair. “It’s alright,” Jack said. “I’ll just go. I’ve been sitting down too long anyway.”

Hiccup wished he ’d had another moment to ask Jack to stay, or at least had enough presence of mind to hold him a little tighter, but Jack was already going, soaring out of the window.

Elinor gave him a knowing little smile.  “Must have been too much serious conversation for him already,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind it too much.”

“I don’t mind,” Hiccup said, though he privately thought that Jack was mostly leaving because he thought Hiccup wouldn’t want him there, but also wouldn’t want to say so. 

The others filed out of the room, Rapunzel glancing over her shoulder at Hiccup once before she disappeared around the corner.

Toothless shifted a little so that he was pressed more firmly against Hiccup, yawned, and rested his head on his paws, watching Elinor closely. She gave the cat a little nod, as if to say that she understood that he was watching her and would be on her best behaviour.

Hiccup wished that Toothless would take his larger form around the castle. His weight was comforting, but there was something about being able to rest his hand on Toothless ’s scaly head, and the size of his Grimalkin form, that made Hiccup feel far more secure.

“I wanted to ask what you were going to do about Berk, if they come to stay at the castle. Of course, you are welcome to stay if you like, but Jack tells me that you may prefer not.”

Hiccup fidgeted.  “I’ll … think of something,” he muttered.

Elinor folded her hands in her lap.  “Hiccup,” she said. “Let’s get a few things out on the table first,” she said. “You’re Stoick’s son. The one who went missing.”

Had she found out while they were away? Had she  … told anyone? He looked away, and his fingers tightened in Toothless’s fur. Toothless made a little noise in the back of his throat.

“Nobody in Berk knows,” Elinor said. “And we recognised you the first time you came to the castle. Did you forget that we’d met you before?”

“Didn’t think you’d remember,” Hiccup mumbled, feeling some of the tension in his chest turn into something more viscous, hovering somewhere around his stomach and making him feel sick. “Hoped you weren’t paying attention.”

Elinor let out a breath through her nose. It sounded disgruntled, but Hiccup didn ’t know if it was meant to chastise him or not. He supposed he deserved it. He’d been foolish to think he’d just … gotten away with it.

“I wanted to talk to you about it before we did anything else,” Elinor said. Her voice was the same as ever, measured and reasonable, but Hiccup wasn’t looking at her face, so couldn’t tell if there was anything else behind that.

“Yes,” Hiccup said. “Stoick is my father.”

“He thought you died …” 

“Five years ago,” Hiccup confirmed. “Yeah.”

“Well, I expect you have your reasons for not going back,” Elinor said. Hiccup looked up, hearing something else in her tone. She smiled ruefully. “I know a little something of family troubles. Merida and I have … had our differences. But do you really think that he wouldn’t want to see you come back?”

Hiccup wanted to be anywhere but that room at that moment.  “Maybe it’s been long enough that he’s forgotten the bad parts.”

“Time and experience do wonders for most arguments,” Elinor said.

“And for grief,” Hiccup said. “It won’t be pleasant finding out I’m alive and digging it all up again.”

“It can’t have been pleasant believing you were dead, either,” Elinor pointed out. 

“You don’t need to try and make me feel guilty,” Hiccup said. 

“I wasn’t intending to,” Elinor said. “I can only speak as a parent who has made mistakes. I think he’d want to see you back. And I don’t think it would be as bad as you expect. Fergus and I would talk to him for you, if you needed.”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” he said. “Dead sons coming back just when fairies have started to attack? That’s … not good timing.” It wasn’t his real reason, of course, but it was still true, and it was one Elinor might listen to.

Elinor clearly knew what he was thinking, her face conveying some expression between frustration and sympathy, but she only said,  “If you’re sure,” she said. “I hear you’ve made quite a sturdy little hut in the grounds. Though it’d be safer if you’d stay a little closer to the castle.”

“The hut’s fine. It’s still within the grounds.” Hiccup said. He didn’t want to have to do too much thinking just then. He just wanted to go and find Jack.

“Alright,” Elinor said. “We still have a few days, if you want to find somewhere else, or … if you change your mind.”

As Hiccup went to the door, Elinor suddenly spoke again.  “Hiccup?”

“Yeah?”

“I know I’m not your mother, and you haven’t known me for very long,” Elinor said. “But if you need to talk, you know Fergus and I will listen.”

Hiccup was about to say something biting, but he swallowed it. That wasn ’t fair — he was just being contrary, and Elinor didn’t deserve that. She was only trying to help.

“Thanks,” he said instead, and went down the stairs. He needed to be away from the castle, outside the stone walls.


	62. Privacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I sometimes have a lot of trouble writing these notes because I have many things I want to snark at about the chapter, but all of them are spoilers. Especially on drama-heavy chapters.  
> Starting to think I should write end-notes instead.

Hiccup wanted to find Jack, but he also didn’t really think he could stand going searching through the entire castle for him. He decided instead that he’d go back to the hut. If he didn’t show up at the castle, Jack would come and find him at the hut, for sure.

There were still people outside on the grounds, finishing things off, but none of them really paid attention to Hiccup. Castle Dunbroch was never truly quiet, and that had been … difficult for the first few days. There were always things to do, always animals or fields to tend, always something to be built, or if all of that were done, most of the castle staff lived in huts like his around the castle, not the castle itself, and the last hours of twilight were reserved for household chores, cooking, and all the other things that real families did of an evening. 

But at least it wasn’t like the staff in the Castle, whose job was to make sure that Hiccup was looked after. In the Castle, he was stopping someone from doing their job if he wasn’t asking for things constantly. Out here, he could be ignored, and that was a far more comfortable feeling.

He sighed as he finally reached the hut. It wasn’t exactly home, but it felt a lot closer than the room in the castle. 

And it might actually be more of a home still, if he took Elinor’s offer and lived there … while … Berk …

Hiccup’s hand froze on the doorknob, with the door opened. 

His toolbox was on the bench next to the tub that he intended would eventually be a washing sink. There was a half a beehive sitting propped up neatly against the left wall.

None of those things were where he had left them. He had left the beehive next to the door, where it would be easy to reach. The toolbox had been next to it. His shelves … everything was on different shelves than where he’d put it. The cupboard was open and it was the same in there, linens on the cookware shelf and the cookware on the shelf where he’d planned to put crockery.

The hand on the doorknob trembled. When had this happened? It had to be while they were talking to Elinor.

Next to him, Toothless had transformed into his larger form, and was growling.

Hiccup felt like he was going to throw up. Of course. Nobody from Castle Dunbroch would have done this. Children looking for mischief would have stolen something, or left the place a mess. An adult looking for a tool to borrow, or to make some sort of statement, if they thought he was a fairy, would have either taken the toolbox and nothing else, or left the entire hut a wreck.   
Hiccup put his hand on Toothless’s back, feeling the hair standing up on its end all down the Grimalkin’s back. So the only person who had a reason to hate Hiccup, who would have done something like this instead of destroying his things or stealing them …

And the only person Hiccup had ever seen Toothless growl at.

Was Pitch.

“Hey, it’s not good for you to skip dinner,” Jack said from behind Hiccup, then he stopped. “Hey … you don’t look so good.” 

Jack walked up to join Hiccup on the other side of Toothless.

“Hiccup?” he asked, after another moment. “You’re kinda scaring me now.”

“Pitch … was here,” Hiccup said, finally registering that Jack had expected him to answer, and finding his tongue.

Jack’s face immediately went blank. “How, uh … do you know?”

“Nothing’s where I left it,” Hiccup said. “And Toothless.”

Jack’s hand joined Hiccup’s on Toothless’s back. Toothless accepted the touch but stepped a little to the side so that he was pressing up against Hiccup’s leg.

“Maybe … you should come back to the castle tonight,” Jack said. “Just in case.”

“I …” Hiccup started. He finally managed to pull his hand off the doorknob.

Toothless shifted so that his head was under Hiccup’s hand, and he pushed his scaly nose against Hiccup’s leg. His growl became a soft, questioning noise.

Then Jack stepped around Toothless and wrapped his arms around Hiccup, holding Hiccup so hard that Hiccup might have been worried about being crushed if he still needed to breathe. Hiccup wrapped his hands around Jack and held on like he might be able to reverse everything Pitch had just done if he could only hold on tight enough.

“I told you it wouldn’t be safe here,” Hiccup said hollowly. “I told you that it wouldn’t make any difference if I left the hut.”

“Come to the castle,” Jack said again. “It’s …”

“It’s not safe,” Hiccup said. “Nowhere’s safe.”

“Listen,” Jack said. “That’s what Pitch wants you to think. He just found out that you live right near the edge of the castle grounds, and knows he can only sneak in so far. He had to get to the hut now, before it was finished, or he wouldn’t be able to enter without invitation. And he’s figured out that you were starting to feel at home at the hut. He’s just trying to put you off. He wants you to think it’s hopeless so that you’ll give up and give him Toothless. That’s what he does to people.”

“But he’s right,” Hiccup said. “I was starting to feel at home.” He held Jack a little tighter, and felt Jack squeeze harder in return. “Jack … why can’t I have anything that he doesn’t take away?”

“You do,” Jack said. “Toothless would gut Pitch before he’d let himself be taken. And Pitch has been trying to get me for years, and he hasn’t done it yet. I promise, Hic … I promise.”

Jack sounded like his voice was cracking at the last part of that, though Hiccup didn’t hold it against him. He wasn’t sure how he’d stopped his own voice cracking, if he was perfectly honest.

“Come back to the castle,” Jack said again. “We’ll pile the three of us on one of those tiny beds and we don’t even have to try and sleep if you don’t want to.”

“It doesn’t feel like home,” Hiccup said, knowing that it was a stupid thing to be worried about.

“Well … let’s stay in the hut, then,” Jack said. “We’ll all curl up together and if Pitch comes back we’ll kick him in the teeth a few times just to see how he likes it.”

“It feels like he’s hiding in there, waiting,” Hiccup said.

Jack said nothing for a while, and Hiccup felt bad for being so contrary on top of everything else.

“We should go in to dinner, at least,” Jack said. “I … think I know what Elinor wanted to talk to you about, and Merida and Punzie will worry if you’re not there.”

Hiccup held Jack tighter. He knew that was true, but he didn’t even want to think about being inside the castle.

“I’ll do the talking,” Jack said. “Promise, you can just grunt at people. I’ll translate.”

Hiccup tried for a laugh, but it came out choked. “I can’t imagine that ending well for me.”

“Well … I promise not to say anything too embarrassing. Just for today.”

At their feet, Toothless made a noise and rubbed his face on Hiccup’s knee.

“I’ll go in,” Hiccup said. “I … don’t think I’ll sleep tonight, wherever it is. Would it make you feel better if we slept in the castle?”

“Maybe,” Jack said, in a tone of voice that Hiccup took to mean ‘yes’.

“Just for tonight,” Hiccup said. “I’ll … put everything back the way it was in the morning.”

***

Over dinner, neither Merida nor Rapunzel looked like they wanted to be the first ones to start the conversation. They all poked at their plates. At first, Hiccup ate, mechanically, more because there was food in front of him and when he had finished it, dinner would be over, than any desire to. But halfway through the plate he realised he wasn’t going to be able to finish it, and pushed it away.

Rapunzel was looking down at her plate and at Pascal. Merida and Jack were exchanging glances, probably each waiting for the other to be the first to try and make the dinner less awkward.

Finally, when he was sure that none of them were actually going to finish eating, Hiccup scooped Toothless off his lap and stood up.

“Going to … the room,” he mumbled.

“Sorry,” Jack said, standing up quickly.

“See you later,” Merida said quietly, as Jack followed Hiccup out of the dining hall and towards the room they had shared for a single night when they first arrived.


	63. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it’s a theme with me that I always mean for these big, long, dramatic plot chapters but they rarely crack 1500 words, but then suddenly I get going on a brief fluff interlude, and 5000 words later I realise I should probably prune it at least a little bit.

When they got up to the room, Jack told Hiccup to wait, and proceeded to pull all of the blankets off the bed, piling them all up into the corner. Toothless, as soon as they were inside the room and couldn ’t be easily seen by passers-by, had turned into his larger form and was pressed up against Hiccup’s leg as hard as he could, almost making Hiccup brace against the wall.

Jack spent a minute or two arranging the blankets, then looked down at his handiwork with a grin.

“There! Oh — not quite!” He grabbed the cushions off the chair and tucked them in under the blankets. “There! Comfortable!” 

He turned to Hiccup with a smile on his face that almost made Hiccup forget that anything was wrong at all. But although Jack ’s expression was carefree, his eyes were searching Hiccup’s, waiting and checking to see if his sunny smile was doing its job. 

Hiccup tried to smile back, but Jack looked away and Hiccup could tell that he hadn ’t been convincing enough. Hiccup sat on the now-bare bed and rolled up the leg of his trousers so that he could start unstrapping his leg. Jack knelt down and gave Toothless a scratch behind the ears, muttering something nonsensical to the big beast. Toothless closed his eyes contentedly and rubbed his scaly nose against Jack’s other hand, guiding Jack to the itchiest spots. The big softie often got itchy where fur met scales, so just on the top of his head and around the base of his jaw were his favourite spots to be scratched.

Hiccup finally finished with his leg, and reached over to lean it up against the wall near the pile of blankets. He pulled the leg of his trousers back down so that his stump was obscured, but then he realised that he ’d have to get changed.

“Uh,” he said. “Pass … pass my nightclothes?”

Jack opened the cabinet and passed them over.  “I’ll leave the room for a second.”

“Uh, no,” Hiccup said. “You don’t … need to bother.”

Jack shrugged.  “It’s no bother. I know you don’t like …”

Hiccup decided to stop the argument by just taking off his shirt, trying not to let his shoulders rise too much and make Jack feel like he ’d forced Hiccup to do something he didn’t want to. 

“You’ve … seen me with my shirt off, anyway, haven’t you? That day at the hut?” Hiccup said, talking mostly so that he didn’t think about the fact that Jack was watching him. He grinned, though it felt a little forced, and was aimed more at the floor than at Jack. “And don’t try to tell me you weren’t looking forward to seeing it again.”

“That would be lying,” Jack said, still not looking directly at Hiccup. “And lying would be wrong.”

Hiccup snorted, and started pulling his nightshirt up over his arms.

Jack pulled another nightshirt out of the cupboard and started to put it on himself. Hiccup paused in putting on his shirt to stare for a moment. Jack caught him, grinned, and turned a little so that Hiccup had a slightly better view. Jack looked like he was carved out of marble. Not much muscle on him, but not a lot of anything else, either. And no spots or marks, either. Not like Hiccup ’s freckles.

“You know, you … don’t need to be so nervous about it,” Jack said. “You basically do nothing but farm work and building all day. Maybe you’re a bit smaller than average in Berk, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t … really nice to look at.”

Hiccup was glad he was pulling the shirt over his head so that Jack couldn ’t see the colour that his face had just turned. “It’s … not about that,” he said.

“Oh,” Jack said. “Oh! Right. The … skin thing.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “I can’t exactly wear something over my face and hands all the time, but I can usually pass it off as being … a little under the weather, if I’m careful. But uh. It’s a little harder to deny that something’s not right when you look at” he gestured up and down his torso. “All of this.”

Jack paused in straightening out his nightshirt and pulling off his trousers.  “Guess I understand that,” he muttered. “Kids tend to think there’s something wrong with me, too, when I find them in the forest. There’s a reason I mostly take them to Aster, these days.”

Hiccup had to look at Jack again for a moment  — yes, his skin did look more like stone than flesh, and the blue around his lips even on a relatively warm night, and the fact that he never wore shoes, even when it was freezing cold  … he supposed if that was lost in the woods as a child, knowing about fairies, he might have not trusted Jack, either.

“Sorry,” Hiccup said.

Jack shook his head.  “It’s fine,” he said. “It doesn’t really bother me that much.”

Hiccup doubted that.  “Well,” he said. “You’re the one with the experience with blanket piles.” He grinned up at Jack. “How do we get under that lot without destroying your painstaking creation?”

“Here,” Jack said, lifting up one end of the blankets. “Toothless, you want to get in first and let us lean on you, or do you prefer somewhere else?”

Toothless gave him a baleful eye, but padded over, nosed in behind the blankets, and curled up obligingly. 

Hiccup and Jack stepped into the blankets and spent a moment arranging cushions around and underneath themselves, until finally they were propped up on one side by cushions and from behind by Toothless ’s big, warm flank. Jack tucked his head onto Hiccup’s shoulder and their legs tangled under the blankets, and for a moment they just sat together like that.

“I found out about who you are,” Jack said. 

“I figured you would,” Hiccup said.

“Elinor and Merida know, too. And Fergus.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “Elinor told me.”

“Merida knew from when she first met you. She was … just keeping it quiet. Same with Elinor and Fergus.”

“Elinor told me that, too. Suppose I should have figured,” Hiccup said. “Guess it was just wishful thinking.”

He ’d been doing a lot of that recently, it seemed.

“What … was that you said, before you left, about being Rapunzel’s little brother?” Hiccup asked.

“Oh,” Jack said. “I just realised I forgot to tell you about that. I, uh … sort of got distracted after that.”

“I was too distracted to remind you,” Hiccup admitted. 

“I’m not quite her real little brother,” Jack said. “But she’s decided that’s how it is, so I’m happy to go along with it. Mother Gothel made me.”

“Made?” Hiccup asked.

“Yeah. I’m a changeling. Punzie’s parents exchanged her for me. But they went back on the deal, and Gothel didn’t want me back, and that’s, uh … about the whole of the story.”

Hiccup pulled Jack a bit closer.  “I’m sorry,” he said. “That … I’m sorry.”

“No need,” Jack said, but with none of the flippancy he usually had when he was trying to get Hiccup to avoid a sore topic. “Don’t think I would have wanted to be raised by Gothel anyway.”

“That’s why you and fairies don’t get along?” Hiccup asked.

“Changelings aren’t exactly well liked,” Jack confirmed. “And I’m not inclined to like people who don’t like me back.”

Hiccup just held him close for a moment after that.  “I died because I was an idiot,” he said.

“Hm?” Jack asked, his mind having apparently been elsewhere for a moment.

“I got angry with my Dad and then I got lost in the woods,” Hiccup said. “Not even that far in.”

“It’s … pretty easy to do,” Jack said.

“I should have known that area,” Hiccup said. “I’d been hiding out in the woods since I was old enough to be allowed out of the house alone. And I should have known enough to try and calm down and at least take some bearings before I just … plunged in.”

“It’s not your fault,” Jack said.

“Yeah. Yeah, it kind of is,” Hiccup said. “But I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

“Why’s that?”

“I guess … I had to get out of Berk somehow,” Hiccup said quietly. “And Toothless certainly made the transition easier.”

This time it was Jack ’s turn to just sit quietly. 

And then there was a knock on the door.

Jack made a grumbling noise, but Hiccup said,  “Who is it?”

Merida ’s hair preceded her around the door. “Just friends,” she said. “Mind if Punzie and I come join in?”

Jack looked up at Hiccup.

“Sure,” Hiccup said. 

Merida and Rapunzel were already in their nightclothes, and had blankets with them.

Hiccup looked down at Jack. Had he said something about their plans for the evening?

“I didn’t ask them to come,” Jack said quickly.

“He really didn’t,” Rapunzel confirmed. “I sort of just … asked Merida if maybe …”

Merida hitched up the blanket she was holding to stop it slipping out of her hands and dragging on the floor.  “We noticed you were looking peakier than usual at dinner. Punzie’s too worried to sleep, and I’m too untactful not to ask. So, if you just want some alone time with Jack, you can tell us to get lost. But if some extra friends would help …?” She grinned.

“Sure,” Hiccup said. Now that he had gotten over the shock a little bit, of seeing that Pitch had been in his hut, he realised that he did want all of the other three there after all. “Toothless? You alright with that, bud?”

Toothless opened one eye, flicked an ear, then went back to pretending to sleep.

“He doesn’t mind,” Hiccup confirmed. 

“Great!” Merida said.

There was another few minutes where they all shuffled around each other, accompanied by a few protesting grunts from Toothless as elbows went where they weren ’t supposed to go, and subsequent apologies. Finally, they managed to settle in. Jack was less leaning against Hiccup’s side now, and more sitting against his chest. Merida had snuggled up next to Toothless’s legs, laying her legs across Hiccup’s and Jack’s laps and an arm around Hiccup’s back, on Toothless’s side. Rapunzel was lying across the other three, with her legs tucked around Merida’s hips and her head on Jack’s lap. Pascal curled up on her hand, and she absently scratched the back of his head. 

“Want to talk about it?” Merida prompted.

Hiccup nudged Jack, and Jack answered for him,  “Pitch broke into Hiccup’s hut and moved everything around.”

There was silence for a while which Merida broke by saying, more cheerfully than Hiccup was expecting,  “You know, if I ever see Pitch in person, I’m gonna punch him in the mouth for you.”

“Thanks,” Hiccup said. 

“I’m not good at punching,” Rapunzel said. “But I’ll give it a shot.”

“I appreciate it.”

Jack snorted and patted Rapunzel ’s hair. “It’s the thought that counts,” he said. “Beside, by the time Merida, Toothless and I are finished, you might even manage to finish him off.”

“You sure you’re alright?” Merida asked Hiccup.

Hiccup shrugged.  “I guess it was pretty obvious how to get under my skin,” he said, glancing at Jack. Jack had been right about this, after all. “Pitch saw the opportunity and took it.”

“It just makes my skin crawl that he was even this close to the castle,” Merida said. “If he’d been inside my room …” she shuddered. “Ugh. No thank you.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said.

“He’s a bully,” Merida said. “And if Jack is right, and he’s sure he’s going to lose to North…”

There was another long pause, and then Rapunzel said, in a very, very small voice,  “Do you think … mo … that Gothel might come looking for me, then? Or that he’d tell her where I am?”

Hiccup looked at Jack  — Jack seemed to know the most about Pitch, and he was much better at reassuring people than Hiccup was.

Jack put his hand on Rapunzel ’s head again. “Nah,” he said. “Gothel’s going to be way too busy with Pitch’s army. And Pitch only cares about Toothless. He’s not after Hiccup because he hates us specifically. You’re as safe as the rest of us.”

“Thanks for throwing me to the wolves there, Jack,” Hiccup said, elbowing him. Jack looked up with an apprehensive expression, but recovered quickly when he saw Hiccup’s grin.

“Aw, I knew you’d be fine with it. We’d all do anything for Punzie,” Jack said. “Right?”

“Sure,” Hiccup said. “You’re only getting away with it because it’s for Rapunzel.”

Merida nudged Rapunzel with her foot, in a manner that Hiccup suspected was intended to convey mocking agreement.

“Thanks, guys,” Rapunzel said.

“See?” Jack said. “We’re going to look after each other, and it’s all going to be fine.”

“Um,” Rapunzel said, “I don’t mean to be a downer, but … maybe it’s not.”

“What do you mean?” Jack asked.

“Pitch … is really powerful. And North doesn’t seem like he cares a lot … just from what you’ve told me.” Rapunzel lay down and rested her head on one hand as she spoke. “And it really sounds like all we can do is hide in the castle and hope nobody tries to come in. That’s what it seems like to me. So … maybe we should think about what happens if it’s not fine.”

There was a long silence. Hiccup could see Jack struggling to come up with something encouraging, and failing.

Then, finally, Merida said,  “Punzie’s right. Mum always said that all her little tricks would keep away fairies that were only going about their business, or looking for an opportunity. But against fairies that are determined to do you harm …”

“There’s not much that you can do.” Hiccup confirmed.

“Hey …” Jack started, but Hiccup shook his head. 

“No … it’s a good point. We can’t just pretend we’re in no danger,” he said quietly.

Jack rested his head back against Hiccup.  “Today’s been too long,” he said. “Can’t we just pretend for one night?” 

“I guess we _were_ supposed to be cheering Hiccup up,” Rapunzel said quietly. “Sorry.”

Hiccup shook his head.  “It’s fine. I do feel better. Promise.”

“And don’t you just go saying that to make us feel better,” Merida said, poking him with a foot, too. “You lot are all as bad as each other for that.”

“Fine. I’m distraught and inconsolable,” Hiccup said, dryly. “And your presence is no comfort. Ow! Stop kicking me!” 

He squirmed away, trying to get as far away from Merida ’s jabbing toes as he could while trapped against Toothless and Jack, and under Rapunzel. 

“And none of your lip, either!” Merida said.

Toothless yawned and resettled himself into a different position, shifting the other four against each other.

“I know, we’re disturbing your nap, bud,” Hiccup said, and reached across Jack to scratch Toothless’s head.

“That’s one thing we have going for us,” Merida said. “This big, sleepy oaf.”

“See?” Jack said “We’re not _totally_ doomed.”

Hiccup snorted.

There was a silence again for a while, in which Merida snuggled down a little further against Toothless, and Rapunzel stretched out across their laps a little more.

“Once I’ve finished that bee hive,” Hiccup said. “I think the hut could use some work on the windows. I could try my hand a real window frame. Charred wood and everything.”

“You’re not staying at the castle?” Merida asked.

Hiccup shrugged.  “Not seeing how it’s going to be any safer,” he said. “If Pitch really wanted to mess with me, he’d be able to do it here, too. What matters isn’t how much he can rearrange my hut, it’s whether he can bring an army into the castle grounds, right? Besides, I worked hard on that hut. He can’t have it.”

“I like the way you think,” Merida said. “We’ll all help you work on it, right?”

The way she asked it made Hiccup wonder if Elinor had talked to her about their conversation. But he let it go for now. He might have been annoyed with himself about Elinor, and he certainly wasn ’t about to take her advice about Berk … well, about Stoick, really. But he did trust her and Merida to keep his secret, and the help would be nice.

“Sure,” Jack said. “Uh. Though you may regret asking me to help.”

“I’ll help, too,” Rapunzel murmured, sleepily. 

After a long silence, Rapunzel ’s sleep-heavy breathing and Toothless’s purring were the only thing that could be heard. The rumbling was soothing against Hiccup’s back.

“Punzie’s gone,” Jack said.

“I’m going,” Merida said. “I can wake her up and we’ll go back to our room.”

“Nah,” Hiccup said. “Sounds like too much effort.”

“Well, then, don’t complain when I snore,” Merida said, and settled her head against Toothless’s side.

She was right about the snoring. But Hiccup wasn ’t sleeping anyway, so he didn’t care.


	64. A Storm Approaches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I considered attaching this to another chapter, but ... it was too tempting.

The next day, while Merida was helping her mother with the plans for stocking the castle for the big evacuation, and Punzie was happily painting outside the hut, Hiccup put everything in his hut back in its place.

Jack had gone in intending to help, but it became clear very shortly that Hiccup preferred to put his hut back in order himself. Jack sat in the one chair in the hut (donated, he ’d learned, after joking that Hiccup must have been truly bored without him if he’d turned out a whole chair and table in Jack’s absence) with Toothless on his lap, and watched Hiccup work. 

Hiccup was probably working quicker than he ’d have been able to with Jack’s help. He seemed to have a model in his head of how it would all fit together, and where everything’s proper place was. If Jack tried to help, he’d just have had to explain everything, and that would have slowed them down. So Jack scratched cat-Toothless under the chin and leaned his elbow on the table and tried not to interrupt.

But Jack didn ’t naturally sit still, so after a while, apologising to Toothless, he put the cat on the floor, and said, “I’m going out to see how Punzie’s doing.”

As Jack stepped out the door, a shiver went up his spine. He stopped with the door open. The wind had changed while he was in the hut, and there was a strange feeling in the air. 

“Hey, Punzie,” he said. “Working on that for much longer?”

Punzie finished a brush stroke and looked up.  “Hm? Um … I won’t finish it today. Why?”

Jack knocked on the door.  “Hic? You’d better finish up in there. I think … I think there’s about to be another storm.”


	65. The Second Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I spent way too much time researching the very minor details in this chapter. I now know more about Medieval card games than anyone has any need to. Call the Kings is named not exactly for, but very close to, a Scandinavian game played with a deck similar to a tarot deck. As a little nod to the canon, I figured that Merida would know card games that are based on IRL card games from the British Isles and Western Europe, while Hiccup would know more Scandinavian card games.  
> Does this matter to the plot? Is it brought up anywhere else? Is it even referenced in this chapter? Absolutely not. But nobody’s complained about my historical notes so far, so I’m just gonna keep them coming.

Jack, Hiccup, Merida and Rapunzel spent the storm curled up on Merida ’s floor, all leaning against Toothless and wrapped up in blankets. There was a pack of cards and some game tokens scattered around them, but the games hadn’t been particularly spirited, and even Jack was having trouble lifting the mood. 

Every time the window shutter rattled, at least one of them shuddered. Merida was at least as fidgety as Jack, though for once she didn ’t make any comments about wanting to be outside. Queen Elinor passed by the room more often than Jack expected she needed to, ostensibly going to check on people and tasks around the castle. It was pretty clear that she only wandered past to look in on Merida every half an hour or so, though.

The storm started around midnight, and it was now well into the afternoon, by Jack ’s reckoning at least. Wasn’t like there was any sun through the clouds to tell by. He picked up the deck of cards and started to shuffle it absently, but nobody suggested a game, so he just kept his hands busy shuffling the cards without a real purpose.

Finally, Hiccup sighed.  “You’re all making me tense,” he said. “Jack, give me the cards. I’m teaching you all Call the Kings.”

They played a few rounds of cards, and the mood relaxed a little, but they still weren ’t exactly in high spirits. The game paused every time the wind gusted and rattled the windows, and every roll of thunder. Every time the outline of the window shutters were projected onto the opposite wall by the lightning outside. They switched games a few times, to hide that none of them were really in the mood for cards.  


“I hope all the animals are under cover,” Rapunzel said, eventually, while Merida shuffled the cards, ready to take her turn dealing. 

“They’ll be fine,” Merida said. “They’ve all got their little houses, and I suspect the pigs will be snuggled up somewhere with their noses in the kitchen scraps.”

She dealt the cards, and Rapunzel didn ’t seem to have any further questions on the subject … and then there was another noise from outside. At first Jack thought it was a roll of thunder, but as the four of them fell silent to look up, he heard it more clearly. It sounded like the neigh of a gigantic horse, too high-pitched for thunder, but with that crackling, rolling quality. It was followed by a gust of wind, hard enough that Jack thought he heard the wood of the brace holding the shutters closed cracking under the sudden stress. Hiccup and Rapunzel both winced.

Elinor walked past the door again, this time running down the hall, sparing them only a glance. Jack didn ’t know if the others had noticed.

“I don’t like that sound,” Rapunzel said quietly.

“Aye,” Merida agreed. “And I’m rather fond of horses, as a rule.”

“Fairies aren’t humans,” Jack said darkly. “So don’t go thinking of fairy horses like your horses, either.” Then he realised that might have brought the mood down a little too much, so he said, “Even though your horses are murderous beasts and I don’t know how you spend so much time with them.”

Merida gave him a disgusted look.  “My Angus is a sweetheart. He’s just suspicious of you, like everyone should be.”

Jack smirked.  “He just doesn’t like the way I show affection.”

“Aye, by surprising us in the woods. I’m surprised I let you in the castle!”

Another great neigh thundered across the sky, and this time, the window shutters definitely splintered a little at the huge blast of wind that followed.

“I’m fixing those tomorrow,” Hiccup said, but nobody answered. Even the wind seemed more silent in the moments that had followed that neigh.

“Just deal the hand, Princess,” Jack said, finally. “We’re all in suspense.”

Merida dealt, though her mind was clearly not on her hands or the cards. Jack took his turn, but nobody followed him. Minutes passed.

But the neigh didn ’t come again. Slowly, the game picked up again, until they were playing, subdued, but at least concentrating on something that wasn’t that storm.

Jack knew that he ’d need to go and look for some information after this storm was over. North, if he’d give it. Aster and Tooth, certainly. He’d have to try and get to them without drawing attention to himself.

But for now, Hiccup was about to win the trick, and boyfriend or not, Jack wasn ’t about to let that slide.


	66. A Fairy Interlude I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello naughty children it's time for me to mess with the story format

The woods held their breath for the storm.

In Nicholas St. North ’s fairy mound, the storm felt more distant than it really was, because the mound is in the woods, but not truly  _ in _ them. North opened his gates and his home to the fairies that needed shelter from the rain, and those of his people that would not survive if they got in the way of the West Wind.

Nicholas St. North knew the stories, but he was also old enough to remember. The first storm is a harbinger. The second storm is an arrival. And so, while all eyes in the big feast hall, still decorated with Frost ’s ice flowers, turned to the ceiling as the great horses neighed, North only felt a tension leave him. Horses on the wind certainly spelled nothing good, but at the very least, he was no longer waiting.

  
  


***

  
  


In the deep of the woods, another string of teeth was taken down from a tree, and a birdlike face looked up at the sky. The teeth around her neck and wrists rattled against each other, and she turned back to her work. Teeth would travel, and her house was no nexus of power like North ’s mound, needing to be watched over and resided in. Whether she returned or not, a little gathering of wood and stone among the trees was no loss compared to the troubles heralded by horses on the wind.

  
  


***

  
  


In front of a crackling fire that hissed occasionally as errant raindrops made their way down the chimney, a human with his boots off read a book in the big chair. Occasionally he glanced at the door, but finally decided that if the Frost boy had needed shelter, he would have been here already. He was prideful, but he wasn ’t too prideful to come in from this kind of storm.

Just like Aster wasn ’t prideful enough to stay in the woods after what was coming. He hoped that Frost came by before he left, so that he could say goodbye, but he wasn’t staying longer than it took to pack his hut into crates. He was a hunter, and not afraid of most things in the woods. A few attacks on villages was one thing. But he wasn’t a fairy, and he knew when not to get involved in a fight.

The fire spat again, and for a moment the storm sounded like a great horse. The man in the chair shuddered.

  
  


***

  
  


And in another mound, on the other side of the forest where the trees were thicker, the leaves darker, and if one didn ’t know it was impossible, one might have said the nights were a little longer, a long-faced fairy dressed in blacks and greys sat on a throne and listened to the horses. He had banished all his underlings from the room, and would have banished them from the castle, too, if he could have done it without breaking the tenuous balance that he was fighting to achieve.

He gritted his teeth. This was too soon. He was not prepared.

But this forest was  _ his _ , he had worked  _ so hard _ to keep it. He would not go back to being an underling.


	67. Final Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it never be said that shit was not getting real.

After the storm faded, Jack had spent as much of the mornings as possible with Hiccup. Not that that was particularly long. Hiccup got fidgety very soon after he woke up, it seemed, and honestly Jack was already starting to resign himself to only getting anything more lingering than a brief hug and a few stolen pecks on the cheek while getting dressed. While Hiccup was putting on his shoes, while Jack was sitting on the bed next to him, Jack said quietly,  “I’m going out.”

“Out?” Hiccup didn’t look up from his shoes.

“I … have somewhere to be,” Jack said. “I think I should go and …”

“See if you can find out about those horses in the storm?” Hiccup asked. 

Jack nodded.

Hiccup finished with his shoes, walked over and gave Jack a slow, deep kiss.  “Come back soon,” he said.

“I won’t be gone past dusk,” Jack promised. Even if he had to leave some of his visits for tomorrow, he’d be back.

“I look forward to it,” Hiccup said, and he left the room to go to the hut.

Jack chose to leave the room through the window. He didn ’t like the looks he got from the Castle staff on the stairs down. Hiccup generally got ignored these days. Jack thought it probably had something to do with the fact that he’d spent most of the last two days helping to rebuild the storm damage, unlike Jack, who had mainly been spending it keeping the triplets out of most people’s way … and out of most of the really destructive forms of entertainment that they’d come up with. But as always, destruction with the triplets was more about trading off than preventing it entirely. 

Still, after the third toppled stack of paint cans, he could see why  ‘not as bad as it might have been’ was cold comfort. Jack’s face would never be particularly popular among those who had work to be doing that would not be improved by the addition of three little red-haired agents of chaos. 

But today, the triplets would have to take care of themselves. 

He stepped out of the window, and held his breath for a moment, gasping a little as the wind grabbed him and pulled him along, away from the castle and towards the woods.

He immediately chided himself. Of course the wind was there for him. It was three days since the storm, and there was none of that sour feeling on the air anymore. 

He hated that he ’d mistrusted the wind, even for a moment. He mistrusted fairies, and he mistrusted people who mistrusted him. He didn’t mistrust friends, and the wind had been his friend longer than anyone else, even Rapunzel.

Now  … what order to do this in …?

North last, he decided. If he had to return to the castle and put off a discussion for tomorrow, he ’d prefer it to be the one with North. He still hadn’t worked out how he felt about the whole … cabinet … thing.

Tooth was the closest, so to her first, then.

The wind carried him all the way, using his staff to swing between the trees. He left little blooms of ice on the trunks where his staff touched, and decided to just let them be. Despite everything, Jack was doing pretty well  — the wind was still his friend, and he was still having trouble truly believing that he was allowed to kiss Hiccup now. If he left some ice behind him, surely the world could forgive him for snatching a little happiness and maybe telling a few trees about it.

He dropped down as usual outside the fence to Tooth ’s house and got ready to make his way under the vines and then the strings of teeth …

That were completely gone. Without all the teeth, the trees looked bare. 

Jack walked down the path, as he always did, and tried the door. It was not locked, not even latched, and swung open as he pushed.

Everything was there, except for the teeth. They had never been very obvious inside, just jars here and there, little teeth embedded in the carved wood decorations, little boxes with a few on the lid, and more inside.

Now  … they were all gone.

Oh, the furniture was there, still, but all the teeth had been removed. Their little sconces were left behind, the shapes of incisors and molars marking all the tiny empty spaces in the house. Jack never thought he ’d be unnerved by seeing  _ fewer _ teeth in Tooth ’s house.

He rummaged through a few drawers just to be sure, but they were all empty. Tooth had taken everything with her, it seemed.

She must have left before she was forced to pick a side. As long as he ’d known her, she’d always been adamant that, for the regular fairies, the ‘sides’ were just power plays by those who didn’t really have any. Unless you were powerful already, they were just a waste of time. Maybe she’d just decided not to stay and risk it, after that last storm.

Unless the West Wind really had frightened her  … but no. That couldn’t be. Jack couldn’t imagine she’d have joined  _ Pitch _ , no matter how scared she was. She had to have just moved away.

He shut the door quietly behind him, though he wasn ’t sure exactly who he was trying to mask his presence from, and as usual, walked all the way down the garden path and out of the gate before he took off into the sky. 


	68. Aster's Risk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say about those pun titles.

Jack hadn ’t even considered, until he arrived at Aster’s hut to find him packing up all his things, that Aster might be leaving, too. 

He had opened the door with a gruff,  “Ah. Frost. Better come in. We can talk while I work,” and had gestured him into a room … full of crates. Behind the house, there was a cart and a horse, already piled high. Just like Tooth, Aster was emptying out all his drawers. He wasn’t going to leave anything but the furniture.

“Sorta expected you to start talking,” Aster said. “Never thought this’d be what stunned you to silence.”

Jack realised suddenly that he ’d been staring at the boxes with what must have been quite a startled look on his face. “Oh,” he said. “Sorry.”

Aster stood up and stretched out his back.  “You alright, Frost?”

Jack leaned on his staff and shot Aster a quick grin.  “You know, I think that might be the first time you’ve ever really been sincere with me. You usually show affection by calling me names and telling me I’m a hopeless case.”

“Yeah, well,” Aster said, with a sigh. “Shoulda known I’d get a curly answer.”

“I’m not good at sincere,” Jack said. “You know that better than most.”

“Yeah,” Aster said, then changed the topic. “I guess you must’ve been a bit better off than last time that storm came through, since you didn’t come crawling into my house and get half a river on my floor.”

That was more like it. Jack was much more comfortable when Aster was being prickly.  “Turns out the Dunbrochs put up with me after all,” he said.

“You’ve been staying at the Castle, then?” Aster asked, and Jack was only a little disappointed that he didn’t sound more surprised.

Jack sat on Aster ’s table and dangled his legs over the side, leaning on his staff. “Yeah. We even got Hiccup out of his hut.”

“Yeah? With a crowbar and a tub of grease?”

Jack snorted.  “That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about, you know,” he said.

“Heh. You got that out in the open a lot quicker than I expected. So did you get bored of subtle, or is he bolder than he seems?”

“Uh … little of both?” Jack said. “I think we had a half of about three conversations and then sort of … got distracted.”

“Heh,” Aster said again, then stood up from the box he was crouched over, putting the lid back on it. “Well, if he puts up with you, then far be it from me to be a naysayer.”

“I knew you liked him.”

“He saved my beets, and it seems like he’s got enough head on his shoulders to keep you from bouncing off the ceiling all the time,” Aster said. “Makes him pretty alright in my book.”

“Admit it, it’s because of the beets and you know it,” Jack said.

Aster didn ’t respond, grunting as he lifted the box. Jack followed him through the little house.

“I didn’t think you’d be leaving,” Jack said, his mood shifting as he watched Aster carry the crate out the back and stick it on the pile next to his back door to take out to the cart. Tooth leaving was one thing — she was a fixture of the woods, sure, but she always seemed a little apart from everything. Maybe if Jack had seen her more, he’d think differently. But to him, it had always seemed like her house might disappear and move somewhere else when he wasn’t visiting her. Aster was human, sure, and left the woods to do human things like buy food. But to Jack, he seemed to have put down roots like the trees. To see him moving everything out …

“Well, I’m set in my ways, but I draw the line at giant horses made of wind and night,” Aster said. “I know meself. Whatever’s coming the way of the woods doesn’t even _start_ inside my limits, and I don’t have a damn clue where it finishes.”

“Are you coming to the Castle, too?” Jack asked. “The Dunbrochs called an evacuation, and they’re putting everyone up inside the walls. You know, the big stone ones.”

“Yeah, I know them,” Aster said, and shook his head as he pulled boxes around and shoved them into place. “Nah. I’m heading out West, probably try and put at least ten leagues between me and the woods for a while. If I can walk to the woods inside of a day, it’s too close for me.”

“Oh,” Jack said.

Aster looked up from the cart.  “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re actually going to miss me, aren’t you, Frost?”

Jack shrugged.  “Wouldn’t go that far,” he muttered.

Aster grinned.  “Glad to know I haven’t just been wasting time with you all these years.”

“You’d be forgiven for thinking you were,” Jack muttered.

“Hey, don’t make me actually say something nice about you,” Aster said. He walked back over. “That’s just about the last one packed. I’m leaving as soon as I get all this lot on the cart.”

“Oh.”

Aster clapped him on the shoulder.  “I’ll miss you too, Frost. Hope I’ll see you when things are a bit calmer, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “You can’t just leave a whole house there, right?”

“Still a few things in this sorry shack I’d kinda like to see again,” Aster confirmed.

“Guess I should make sure to drop by every so often,” Jack said. “Wouldn’t want anything crawly moving in while you’re gone.”

“Much obliged,” Aster said. “Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Take care of yourself. And that boyfriend of yours. I’m sure the Dunbrochs know what they’re doing, but you keep a sharp eye, too.” Aster hesitated, then seemed to decide that he would say something after all. “Make sure you keep your wits about you, too. I know it doesn’t always come natural, but think a bit before you act for the next while, alright?”

“Sure,” Jack said, not really feeling like making a joke.

Jack helped Aster load boxes into the cart, though Aster had apparently already done most of the work himself. When they finished, Aster stepped away from the cart and blew out a breath, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm.

“Stay safe,” Jack told him.

“You, too,” Aster said. “You …” he hesitated, then patted Jack on the shoulder again. “Just stay safe,” he finished.

Jack used the wind to jump up onto the roof, and from there watched Aster ’s cart disappear towards the path that led out of the forest.

Well  … there was still one person to go to. And he didn’t really want to stay at Aster’s house, now that Aster wasn’t in it.


	69. Desperation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how much just ... unnecessary waffling I cut from this chapter.

Hiccup had made what Jack called  ‘the mistake’ of offering his help to the Castle’s carpenters, so he’d been fixing window shutters and structures around the castle almost since the very minute the storm had really passed. 

The rain had come down hard and the ground was so swampy that most of the animals were still cooped up in their pens, and there was work being done on new irrigation for the farms, which hadn ’t quite been up to the task of managing so much water. Many of the houses were worse for wear, though, and thatch had to be replaced, as well as a thousand and one other small repairs. But it didn’t seem, so far, that there were any casualties in either animals, crops or people.

Finally the workers began to finish for the day. Three separate people mentioned  “working on the hut” when they told him that he was free to go, and he sort of wished that he didn’t stick out quite so obviously as “that one that built the hut”. Berk was going to be here soon, and while he trusted the Dunbrochs not to mention anything, he didn’t trust an entire castle’s staff to be discreet with his personal secrets.

The hut did need fixing, though. He hadn ’t made it particularly sturdy — an oversight he cursed himself for. Sturdiness was the  _ first thing _ he ’d designed his old hut for, when he’d found himself lost in the woods. He knew it was important. He knew it was necessary. But of course, as soon as it had been next to the Castle, he’d decided that it was more pressing to have  _ bowls _ . 

And, of course, this time there was no going to the carpenters for spare wood, because they needed it all to fix actually important things, like the Castle and the sheep fences and the coops and hutches.

There was nothing for it  — he ’d have to go out into the woods.

He had his axe and he had Toothless, and he was trying desperately to remind himself that that was all he ’d had before Jack had found him. Wasn’t that all he’d had when Pitch had come to the hut the first time? Hadn’t he been willing to stay out in the forest with just Toothless and the axe before the other three had convinced him to stay at the Castle? 

But for some reason, the woods frightened him now, in a way they hadn ’t even when he first explored them with Stoick as a child, despite all Gobber’s stories. They’d felt like a place where he could hide, and he’d be safe. Now … he felt like the trees would hide him, sure, but only so that nobody would hear him call for help.

He shook that out of his head, told himself it was only a trip for wood and he wouldn ’t stray out of sight of the castle. There were plenty of carpenters on the road collecting wood, and he wasn’t going to stray far from them, either. And besides, Toothless was about the biggest and scariest thing he was likely to come across. He strode into the woods. 

He followed the road for most of the way, following the line of carpenters passing wood back from person to person all the way back to the castle gates. It wasn ’t until a fair way out that he broke off from the path and headed into the woods themselves. Not far — just far enough that he wouldn’t be getting in their way, and he could find a nice tree that was more his size.

It wasn ’t like he was going to be able to break down one of the big trees on his own anyway. The Castle Dunbroch carpenters had the big saws and teams of five or six per tree, and all the trees that they were after would have taken him the better part of a whole week to chop down on his own, let alone turn into planks.

He found a much more modest tree  — one that the Dunbroch carpenters would overlook, but that he could make do with easily enough. It might take him a little longer to break it down on his own, but he was still in earshot of the other workers, so  …

His plans were interrupted by a voice that made the skin on the back of his neck crawl. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Just Someone Who Lives In The Woods,” Pitch Black said.

Hiccup wished he could have turned the sudden straightening of his back into something that didn ’t look like Pitch had just startled him. He turned and settled for folding his arms in a way that he hoped made him look assured rather than defensive.

“Pitch,” he said. “Toothless, he’s not to come any closer.”

Hiccup took a little too much enjoyment, perhaps, in the way Pitch glanced with naked fear down at the Grimalkin, though it wasn ’t even a full second before the fairy recovered himself and looked back up to Hiccup. “I see I shall … not be negotiating from friendly terms.”

“Did you expect anything else?”

“Hm. Very well. You seem determined to hold me in low regard.”

“You know, if you wanted to have this conversation in private, you need only have met me at the hut,” Hiccup said. “Not a lot of people go past there, and since you already know where it is …”

“Ah.” Pitch glanced down at the Grimalkin again. “Well, I suppose I deserved that. After all, I never did doubt your intelligence. It was a deed unwisely done in a moment of pique, but I doubt that will make a difference to you?”

He looked up at Hiccup as though expecting him to respond to the sentence. Hiccup kept watching him, plastering the most disapproving look he could manage across his face.

“Of course. Of course.” Pitch held his hands up as though he were responding to some accusation that Hiccup had made. “You are right, of course, as usual.” He held up one fist to his mouth to cover a delicate clearing of his throat. “Perhaps, then, I shall simply state my piece and leave.”

“That would be good,” Hiccup said.

“I have come to offer you one last chance,” Pitch said, “To join with me, and bring me back my Grimalkin.”

“I already told you, no,” Hiccup said. 

“I thought you might say that,” Pitch said, with an aggrieved sigh. “Are you … completely certain about that? You know that Grimalkins and their owners traditionally come with … rather high honours in our court. You might even be able to convince some of the others — not me, of course, you know I wouldn’t need convincing. It doesn’t matter to me where these hunts go — that Berk could be … off limits for their little expeditions, hm? Maybe there are other things you’d prefer my people not to do? I can’t promise you’ll always get your way, of course, but as a Grimalkin owner, you could make your voice heard. There would be precious few who could contradict you, and I, for one, would certainly be open to negotiation on most points …”

Hiccup ’s eyes narrowed. It was certainly no secret anymore that he had connections to Berk. It had probably been easy to guess from the location of his hut alone. But why hadn’t Pitch led with this on the first day? Was he really only hoping that Hiccup would join out of … what, loneliness? The goodness of his heart? There was a trick here that Hiccup wasn’t seeing.

“Still no,” Hiccup said, turning back to the tree. After all, he didn’t need to worry about Berk anymore, did he? Pitch would find out soon enough that the humans were evacuating, but Hiccup certainly didn’t owe him advance notice.

“And of course, you would have a command,” Pitch said. “Some people who follow your directions, for once. I would be more than willing for you to extend protection to your friends at the Castle, not just Berk. You should know that I respect … looking after one’s own,” he said. “It must be so frustrating for you to be always behind, always the last to know about things … always just so few people.”

Hiccup ’s axe bit into the tree. “What makes you think I ever wanted a  _ command _ ? ” he asked. Pitch clearly didn’t know very much about Hiccup if he thought that, of all things, Hiccup wanted  _ responsibilities _ .  “So, no. You really don’t have anything to offer me.”

“How … very interesting,” Pitch said, over the rhythmic sound of axe hitting wood. “Then consider that your last chance. Fair’s fair, I’ve asked three times. I’ve done my dues. But I can’t say I’m not disappointed.”

Hiccup didn ’t look back, but he could tell by the way Toothless’s low growl slowly subsided and the prickles going down his back faded that Pitch had left, either backing up into the trees or pulling that vanishing trick of his.

He broke off what was probably the last plank he ’d manage to split, with the light fading as it was, and started hauling the wood back to the hut, before he was caught out in the trees in true night.


	70. North

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, they're biscuits. I'm Australian and I refuse to change this.

Jack arrived at the mound a few hours past noon. He ’d spent longer than he intended to with Aster, but he should have more than enough time to talk to North and keep his promise to Hiccup of returning by sundown. 

There were a few fairies around the grounds, and all of them gave Jack dirty looks as he walked up to the door.

North met him at the door again, pursing his lips together.

“Still can’t have me walking up in broad daylight, huh?” Jack asked.

“Is not that,” North said.

“Uh-huh,” Jack said, but he didn’t for a moment believe North.

“Come in, Jack,” North said, and gestured for Jack to enter. 

Jack was a little surprised, but he followed North inside, drawing even more askance looks from the mountainous yetis and the elves that scurried across the floor. Jack wasn ’t sure if he’d ever seen the elves do anything useful, but North must have kept them around for some reason, he supposed.

They walked to one of the sitting rooms, and North looked at a yeti, who disappeared for a moment and then brought them a tea tray with some biscuits and two cups on it.

Jack wasn ’t really a tea drinker, but he knew enough about fairy hospitality not to refuse any of it. He took both a cup and a biscuit, and ate them in solemn silence while North did the same.

Once they ’d each finished a cup, Jack using two of the sweet, oaty biscuits to make the plain tea palatable, North leaned back and clasped his hands over his stomach, the tattoo-like markings on his arms jutting a little out of his sleeves where Jack could see them. “Well, Jack, you have decided to come back soon.”

“And you’ve offered me hospitality,” Jack said. “Won’t your standing take a fall?”

North shrugged, and made a  ‘pfeh’ noise. “Under the circumstances, I can simply say I know Pitch wants you, and any deprivation of Pitch’s is a victory for us.”

“So, as long as Pitch is the bigger problem, we’re quits?” Jack asked. He tried not to feel the sting of that. Of course North couldn’t just invite him in on his own merit. He’d known it when he walked in the door. But that didn’t mean he liked to hear it.

North shrugged.  “Pitch is always bigger problem than you. You are not bad company, and you make my parties the talk of the woods!” North gave him an encouraging smile, as if that was supposed to be a compliment.

North seemed to notice that Jack wasn ’t particularly enthusiastic, because his smile disappeared. “Well, you have come here to ask for something, no? After storm, for friends, yes? I have given tea, and I have given biscuits, now I give ears. Tell me what is question.”

Jack grabbed another biscuit from the plate  — since they were there — and said,  “Last time I was here, you and Pitch mentioned the Man in the Moon, and the West Wind. The West Wind came in on that storm, right?”

“You heard horses,” North said, sounding more like he was confirming the statement than asking a question.

Jack nodded.

“Yes, it seems Pitch has his master back,” North said, and to Jack’s surprise, the look on his face and his tone of voice turned almost mournful.

“His master?” Jack prompted.

“You do not know?” North asked.

Jack raised an eyebrow.  “Name  _ one _ fairy in these whole woods who would have given me a history lesson. ”

“Toothiana might have,” North said.

Jack opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Well, he couldn ’t argue with that.

“Still,” North said, “It is common knowledge, so I will answer.”

Jack quickly grabbed another biscuit and got comfortable in the chair to let North tell his story.


	71. A Fairy Tale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn’t think I was capable of being pretentious enough to switch writing styles mid-story then you obviously don’t know me very well.

Once upon a time, there were six great beings: the Eye of the Sun, the Man in the Moon, and the winds of North, South, East and West. But this is a story about only three of them.

As is known to these woods, here was once a great battle. The generals of the six beings clashed with their armies, and the world was changed. It was the Sun who started the battle, in her anger, and the West Wind fought on her side. But the Sun ’s brother, the Moon, did not, and nor did the other three, and so the Sun and the Wind lost and the Sun was cast out from the world.

The West Wind had quarrelled with the Man in the Moon, for not siding with his sister in the battle, and she connived to have him exiled with the Sun, as both company and jailer. The Moon went willingly, and loves his sister yet, but the Sun has not yet forgiven him, and will only sometimes let him share the sky with her, when she is most lonely.

But these things are never over when the leaders of the battles have finished with their arguments. The Generals, for their part, had to be dealt with also. Four of the six moved elsewhere, to their masters ’ homes in the rest of the world, but the Generals of the Man in the Moon and the West Wind stayed behind and split this forest between them, for neither of them could in good conscience cede the woods to the other. They divided the woods into two and took dominion over half each, and made rules and agreements about how the woods would be run. The Generals would rule in the woods, and though their masters might pass freely, they would no longer involve themselves directly. The Man in the Moon watches and misses the forest from afar, and though three other Winds prefer other climes, the West Wind resents the Moon still, and comes by to bring her clouds over the woods and obscure the Man in the Moon’s view. After all, the Moon cannot pierce clouds as the Sun can, and the Sun refuses to help the Moon where the West Wind is involved. But over the years, her hatred has calmed, and it has been a long time since she brought the biggest of her storms to the woods.

In the woods, too, the rivalry continued. Nicholas St. North, who was the creation of the North Wind given to the Moon for a general in a time long before the battle, and Pitch Black, born of the first shadow cast on the world when night and storms blackened the sky together, gathered their loyal followers and fed their animosities, and since then, peace has been uneasy, but enduring.


	72. The End of a Conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno if this is the same for you guys, but while I was editing this, I surprised myself that there were still 32 chapters left to go. Pacing is weird.
> 
> Also yes, two chapters today. I'm trying to make up for last week, when I was too run off my feet to get any chapters up.

Jack had eaten another three biscuits and sank deeper into the chair, dangling his legs over the armrest while he listened to North talk.

“So … you’re actually created by the North Wind,” Jack said. “And you’re the ruler of this half of the forest because you were the Man in the Moon’s General? And you’re sort of … fighting by proxy with Pitch because your masters can’t fight directly anymore?”

North made a face that clearly said Jack was correct, but that he would neither encourage nor deny the suggestions made.

“Hrm,” Jack said. He thought for a moment, then said, “But the West Wind came back, right? So … what does that mean about that pact? If the Man in the Moon is still exiled, he can’t come back, right?”

“This you already know,” North said.

“I get it, I get it, you can’t tell me anything about how things are currently because I might go blabbing it all to Pitch or something.”

“Not without breaking hospitality,” North said. “But that is technicality, and a pact is a pact.”

“I get it,” Jack said again. “I just don’t get why the West Wind decided to come back. Isn’t that breaking the deal? Don’t you fairies have some pretty harsh things to say about that sort of thing?”

“Is … complicated,” North said. “Perhaps is not breaking truce. Perhaps there is … exception. Perhaps is just extended visit, and not direct action.” He shrugged, in a way that said that one could argue many things about the West Wind’s presence, and some of them might even be true enough that North wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

“Ugh,” said Jack. “Well, thanks for the story, and the biscuits.”

“You have no more questions?”

Jack snorted.  “A thousand of them. But you wouldn’t be able to answer any of them, would you?”

“I had always thought your philosophy was that you will never know until you try.”

“Well,” Jack said, swinging his legs back down and sitting up straighter again. “What do you plan to do about the humans?”

“About the humans?”

“They’re in danger from Pitch and the West Wind, right?” Jack asked. “He’s using them to feed his army or something? Or he’s convincing fairies to join him by promising them free hunting, at least.”

“That is only speculation,” North said.

“Yeah, it’s only speculation,” Jack said. “But they _are_ attacking villages, and it _is_ getting more frequent.”

“I realise it is true,” North said. “But … from political point of view, it is speculation.” He put a gentle stress on the words ‘political point of view’ and tilted his head forward towards Jack.  


“Uh-huh,” Jack said, wondering exactly what North was trying to convey. It sounded like he was supposed to get more out of the statement than he actually had. Maybe if he told Merida or Elinor, they’d have a few ideas. “But you still haven’t answered the question. Are you going to do anything about the humans?”

North spread his hands.  “They are not in my woods. They do not fall under my care. I will protect if I can, but not if it involves entering Pitch’s territory. After all … he has not yet broken the Treaty.”

“He has!” Jack protested.

“Ah,” North said. “But I only know this because I, too, have broken the Treaty. So it is null point.” He smiled sympathetically. “Is politics.”

Jack made a frustrated noise. Politics. He was starting to hate the word.

“I might come back,” he said.

“I think you should take the chance now, if there are questions you wish to ask,” North said. “I think perhaps you will not have time if you do not ask them now.”

Jack leaned on his staff, trying not to show how much that sentence had made him nervous. Not have time if he didn ’t ask now? Were things as bad as that?

Well  … the West Wind had already arrived. Jack guessed it might really be that bad after all.

“I think that’s all I needed to know,” Jack said, after thinking it over for a moment.

After all  … the West Wind was bad news and North wasn’t going to try and help the humans. That was about all that mattered, wasn’t it?


	73. Unsettled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been a bit slow with updates recently -- uni just started and I had some troubles with one of my original works that needed to be fixed. I haven't abandoned the fic and it's all written, it's just a matter of remembering to find a bit of time to edit it up and post it regularly. I'll try to be a bit quicker with chapters in the future.

It might not have been a very long story, but Jack still found that he was rushing to make it back to the Castle by sundown like he ’d promised. He soared through the trees on the wind — and for a moment he wondered whether it was West, North or South, or whether it was some smaller.

But as he was approaching the Castle, he started to get a sort of greasy, foreboding feeling from the air around him. He dropped to the ground, off the wind, letting his staff take some of the weight of the fall. 

He managed to do so just before Pitch came storming through the trees with a face like thunder and a stride to match it.

He was coming through the trees from the direction of the Castle. Jack thought he knew what had made Pitch so sour, and though smiling at Pitch made his stomach turn, he put the biggest, most shit-eating grin on his face as Pitch came past.

“Rejected again?” Jack asked. “You’ll never get to go to the dance at this rate.”

Pitch stopped suddenly. His face smoothed over, and he ran one hand back over his forehead as though he was pushing hair away from his face, even though it always seemed like his hair was carved of wood, rather than having strands. He tugged at his sleeve to pull it back into place, and then finally addressed Jack. 

“Hello, Jack. I see you’re on your way back somewhere.”

“As are you,” Jack said. He desperately wanted to say that he’d heard about Pitch from North, but after North’s consistent reminders about politics … Jack had no illusions that North might keep with politics out of habit or honour, but Pitch would use any information given to him without regret or mercy. And Aster’s warning to think before he acted was still rattling around in his skull. 

“Yes,” Pitch said. “But did you have something to say, or shall we just exchange meaningless jabs with each other until we are both late for our next appointments?”

“No, you can go,” Jack said. “I just wanted to really rub it in that you’re never getting that Grimalkin back.”

Pitch pressed his lips together, and Jack could see that expression of hatred lurking just behind his composure. It probably wasn ’t the best idea to provoke him, but Jack had never really had restraint.

“Turns out you just don’t have as much to offer us as you think,” Jack said. “Shame, that.”

“Listen,” Pitch hissed. “I know you like to be a thorn in the sides of everyone you meet, you little witch’s offcast, but let me assure you, you have miscalculated. The human has refused me three times without negotiation. Has anyone ever bothered to teach you what that means? No, who would? Jack Frost the Irreverent doesn’t listen to anybody, and doesn’t take anyone but himself seriously. Very soon, the rules are going to change, and then, trust me, I will not hesitate to find the soft places between your bones and pry you apart if that is what it takes.”

Pitch stopped his speech suddenly, and Jack suddenly realised that his back was pressed against a tree, and Pitch was awfully close to him.

Then Pitch moved suddenly but smoothly, like a shadow sweeping out of the way of a lantern, standing up straight again, and without a word of goodbye, disappeared among the trees.

Jack leaned on his staff as he stepped away from the tree, looking in the direction Pitch had gone. It took him a moment to gather himself and start back towards the castle.

Jack didn ’t want to acknowledge it, but for the first time, he’d genuinely been afraid of Pitch.


	74. Steeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how badly I screwed up the timelines on this scene and the ones before it first time around. It was on the order of days of difference.  
> That’s what I get for writing while sleep deprived, I guess.

Hiccup finally managed to get all the wood stashed away next to the cupboard and the spot where the hearth would soon go. It seemed almost lonely in the hut without Rapunzel standing outside at the easel. And without Jack.

The walls still had some planks missing after the storm, which he would have to fix soon, if Berk was going to be coming …

Really, he wished that he had time to build a whole new hut somewhere far away from the Castle, but it seemed he ’d have to settle for fixing up this one and hoping that nobody from Berk decided they were going to come out and investigate.

He also hoped that Elinor ’s private talks with him really were private, and that none of the servants had made the connection between him and Berk, and furthermore that they would have no reason to gossip about him with any of his father’s retinue.

Yeah. He hoped a lot of things. But there was no changing plans now. He ’d just have to keep hoping.

He also really needed to set up a bed soon. For now, he just had some blankets, and some sheep skins with holes in them that the shepherds said he could have if he wanted. 

It was strange, just being able to ask for things and get them. They were offcuts and waste scraps, he knew, but still, to be able to ask without anyone questioning why he needed them, or what he would do with them.

And, of course, having anyone there to ask at all. That was still strange, too.

When Jack knocked on the door, Hiccup walked over to hug him before even saying hello. 

Jack wrapped his arms around Hiccup ’s back and held onto his shoulder with one hand, the other still gripping his staff.

“You’ve been working all day,” Jack said.

“Sorry,” Hiccup said. Jack was right — he probably wasn’t very pleasant, clothes all full of wood chips and grime.

“No, it’s fine,” Jack said. “Needed the hug more.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “Me, too. Did you find out anything …”

Jack shifted a little and made a noise in the back of his throat, clearly wanting to change the topic. Hiccup pressed his lips together, frustrated for a moment. He knew that Jack didn ’t like to talk about some things, but surely they were in enough trouble for him to put that aside, just once!

No, he was just stressed about Berk and taking it out on Jack. He tried to push his frustration down. He, of all people, should know that sometimes it was just hard to talk about things.

“Found out a few things, actually,” Jack said, finally, into Hiccup’s shoulder. “But I’ve gotta tell Their Majesties about it all, too.”

“Let’s … wait, then,” Hiccup said, trying to pretend he wasn’t tense, and wasn’t just agreeing with Jack to avoid an argument. After all, he had sort of been avoiding Elinor after their conversation, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to go with Jack to the castle.

Jack walked over to the big pile of blankets on the floor, and lifted one up.  “This your bed?” he asked.

“For now, I guess,” Hiccup said. “Merida wants me to stay in the castle at least until the walls are done. Says even if it doesn’t rain, the dew will get in. But …”

Jack beckoned Hiccup over, and Hiccup let Jack wrap them both in blankets and each other. They sat propped against the wall in silence for a moment. Toothless, in his smaller, black cat form, stretched himself out across both their laps, eyes closed and body vibrating softly.

“I know you rejected Pitch again,” Jack said.

“Oh,” Hiccup said. 

“I ran into him in the woods, after he’d talked with you. He, uh. Wasn’t happy.”

Hiccup was about to chuckle and say that he bet not, but then he realised that Jack ’s tone hadn’t been flippant.

“What did he say?”

Jack shrugged, shoulders moving against Hiccup ’s chest. “Said something about stopping at nothing to get us to join him. And something about you having refused him three times. Apparently that’s important.”

“I don’t get it,” Hiccup said.

“I think it’s pretty obvious,” Jack said. “He’s about to do something,and we’re not going to like it.”

“No, but,” Hiccup said. “I’m only a human. And Toothless is only one Grimalkin. And you’re only one fairy. Yet Pitch seems to be paying us an awful lot of attention.”

Jack didn ’t respond immediately. Hiccup decided to just let the topic drop. If Jack didn’t know, he didn’t know.

“Two options, right?” Jack said quietly. “Either there’s something about us that we don’t know yet, or he’s just getting that desperate.”

Hiccup nodded.  “Why doesn’t it feel like Pitch being that desperate is a good thing?”

Jack just tightened his grip around Hiccup, and turned his head so that it was buried a little closer in Hiccup ’s shoulder. 

Hiccup tried to distract himself, let his mind wander to something else, but it seemed like all the places it could wander to were bad, even with Jack there. So instead, he found himself saying,  “I hope I can get the walls and the bed done by tomorrow. Everything else can wait, but I think they need to be finished as soon as possible. I think in a while, I could do something about windows, but windowsills are complicated, and —”

Then Jack interrupted him.  “Hiccup, Elinor wanted to talk to you about Berk, didn’t she?”

“For someone who likes to avoid uncomfortable topics, you sure know how to bring them up,” Hiccup said, and chuckled to show that he was joking. “Yeah. She knows about … who I am. And she said you knew, too.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I saw your picture. On his shelf. The chief’s, I mean.”

“She didn’t say anything about that.”

“You said you didn’t mind if I find out things.”

“I don’t,” Hiccup said. “I mind … my Dad finding out things.” It was a long time since he’d spoken those two words aloud.

Jack nodded slowly.  “Elinor won’t tell him, though, right? She wouldn’t do that.”

“No,” Hiccup said. “But she made it … pretty clear that she thinks that I should tell him myself.”

Jack was silent for a while, but then after a moment, he said,  “Are you worried?”

“Of course I am.”

“From what I saw in the village, it seems like Stoick misses you, at least,” Jack said, though very cautiously.

“Maybe,” Hiccup said. “But you can miss someone without necessarily wanting them back.”

“You just disappeared in the forest, right?” Jack said.

“No,” Hiccup confessed. “Actually …” he pulled out the necklace from where he wore it under his shirt, and showed it to Jack. “I didn’t have this when I left home. Before I died, Dad took it with him everywhere. So … I don’t remember it happening, but I guess he must have found me and left it with me. Before I … before Toothless did whatever he did and brought me back.”

“Oh,” Jack said.

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “Oh.” He lifted his hand off Jack’s shoulder to run his other one over the greyish skin to the wrist. “And even if he hadn’t …”

Jack put his hand over both of Hiccup ’s, and squeezed them tight. “I get it,” he said. “I mean, I would go and see him myself, but that’s because I’m not good at staying away from places where I’m not wanted.” He looked up at Hiccup with a grin, which faded quickly. “But I get it.”

“We’re both sort of disasters,” Hiccup said. “Just in different ways.”

“It’s why we get along so well,” Jack confirmed.

He lifted his face up to Hiccup and they kissed for a while, because it was so much nicer than continuing any of the topics they ’d been discussing.

After a while, when they broke apart finally, Jack said,  “I … well, we’ll all try and help out. Do you want … news? The Princess said that her family won’t give you away, and we’ll come visit you at the hut.”

“Thanks,” Hiccup said. “I … never did ask for news after you got back.”

“Did you want it?”

Hiccup had to really think about that for a moment, but finally he said,  “Sure. Tell me.”

“Well, you’d probably better ask Merida, she knows all the names. But I did overhear some conversations. The attacks are worrying everyone, and I heard the healer say that Stoick was taking them … personally.”

Jack looked up at Hiccup as if asking for permission to continue, and Hiccup nodded.

“But the injuries weren’t bad,” Jack said. “Um. I think that Stoick’s planning to hand over the Chiefdom to someone called Astrid, eventually. He’s also always being followed around by someone called Gobber, who seems pretty cheerful, too.”

Hiccup snorted.  “Maybe if he’d named Astrid successor instead of me a long time ago, things might have been a lot smoother.” 

Jack just squeezed Hiccup ’s hand.

“I’m glad,” Hiccup said, trying to reassure him. “She’s going to be great at it. Probably is already.” She certainly seemed well on her way, the way she and Snotlout had been talking when he’d seen her at the Berk gates.

“If anything,” Hiccup continued absently, “She’ll be the one who decides to come down to the hut because she gets suspicious.”

“Really?”

Hiccup chuckled.  “She always seemed to have a sixth sense for when I was trying to hide something. It wouldn’t surprise me at all.”

Jack squeezed his hand.  “If she does try to come and find you,” he said, “I’ll throw you out the window again.”

“I’m never living that down, am I?” Hiccup asked.

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked to do it again,”

“You’re right,” Hiccup said. “We _do_ have this whole castle at our disposal …”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Jack groaned. “And everyone thought _I_ was going to be the unmanageable one of the two of us.”

After another long pause where they just sat together, Hiccup turned out to have been wrong about the rain. The clouds hadn ’t seemed like it all day, but as they sat there, the air was suddenly filled with a light drizzle, and it was coming into the hut.

“Guess that means we’re going to the castle,” Hiccup murmured, more than a little reluctant, but trying not to let it show too much.

“We’d have to go get dinner anyway,” Jack said.

“Not _technically_ ,” Hiccup said.

“Technically,” Jack said. “But Punzie gets concerned.”

“Can’t have that,” Hiccup said.

He and Jack untangled themselves and stood up, eliciting a disgruntled meow from Toothless.

“Let’s just go and play nice at the castle,” Jack said quietly, threading his fingers into Hiccup’s. He kissed Hiccup again, long and slow, not deeply, but as if he had meant for just a quick peck, but couldn’t quite bring himself to break it off.


	75. Berk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Ruffnut know something we don’t? Does she just like to tease Astrid about literally everyone she talks to? We may never know.  
> Also, am I just glad to be able to write the Dragon Riders interacting, finally? That we definitely do know, and the answer is yes.

Merida knew that Jack had gone and done a little more snooping a day or so ago, but her mum hadn ’t even had the opportunity to talk to him about the fairies, with all the running around they both had to do. Merida wished, too, that she could have kept Rapunzel company a little better — Rapunzel’s assertion that she was fine, and was used to spending her time painting, hadn’t been particularly encouraging. But, Merida supposed, the weather was nice enough that at least Rapunzel and Hiccup could keep each other company. 

She was glad those two had started to get along so well. When Jack had sprung Rapunzel on Hiccup, Merida hadn ’t been at all sure how things would turn out, but it seemed that they’d settled pretty well. They both needed, she suspected, a quiet friend, and that wasn’t going to be either Merida or Jack. 

But she didn ’t have a lot of time to be thinking about these things, as Elinor had her running all about the castle carrying messages, deciding where to put things, running inventory lists back and forth to every-which-where in the castle … a thousand and one things. She might have resented it if she didn’t know her mum was doing two thousand and one.

Then, an arrival was announced at the gates, long before the Castle was ready to receive them, and Merida heard herself sigh just like her mother. But like a good princess, she smoothed out her clothes, and rushed to her room to pull her hair back into something resembling order and change into a cleaner dress.

She met her parents at the door, and together they walked out to greet the new arrivals.

It wasn ’t until she felt that little pang of disappointment when they walked out the door together and saw that the arrivals were from Berk that she realised she’d been hoping, for poor Hiccup’s sake, that Berk might not choose to answer the evacuation call. Jack had been doing his best, but the poor lamb looked like he’d been waiting for an execution for the past week. Merida knew that her mum had taken him aside and had a bit of a talk to him, but it didn’t seem like it had done him much good.

Stoick and Astrid led Berk through the gates, with Gobber following along just behind.

Fergus stepped forward and clapped Stoick on the shoulder.  “Glad you could make it,” he said sincerely.

Stoick said nothing, his manner just like his name. He only nodded, and clapped Stoick ’s arm in return.

As Fergus moved to greet Astrid, Elinor took Stoick ’s hands in her own and said sincerely, “Please make yourselves at home.”

“We have wounded,” Stoick told her.

“Of course,” Elinor said, and gestured over her shoulder. One of the Castle servants moved towards the carts, ready to direct the wagon carrying those too sick or injured to walk themselves where it needed to go.

“We came as soon as we got your runner,” Gobber was saying to Fergus. Then he looked over his shoulder, and shrugged. “Well. Time enough for the serious conversations once we’re out of the open, eh?” He looked down at Merida and gave her an odd salute-come-wave with the hook that he wore in place of his hand. “Princess,” he greeted her.

“Good to see you again,” Astrid said, to Merida, smiling and flicking her fringe out of her eyes. Merida was suddenly reminded of Hiccup’s habit of pushing his hair back.

“You, too,” Merida said. “We didn’t get a lot of time to talk when I visited. Maybe you’d like to come riding with me sometime?”

Astrid ’s smile widened, and Merida was glad that it seemed Astrid knew about fun after all. When they’d been visiting Berk, she hadn’t seen much of the future Chief, and she’d been a little worried that Astrid would be as serious as Stoick the whole time. Hiccup was already about as serious as Merida could handle.

Besides, Astrid looked pretty good when she smiled.

“I’d like that,” Astrid said. “But let’s get everyone settled in, first.” She glanced back over her shoulder at the town that was arriving at the Castle’s gates. 

“On it,” a large and stocky young man said from behind Astrid — Merida recognised him as Snotlout, though she hadn’t had a lot of time to get to know him either on their visit — “Going,” he pointed with both his index fingers towards the castle, “That way, loaded with supplies.” 

He had a smugness about him that Merida recognised from a few of the boys that her parents had brought to the castle and paraded in front of her, but whom she hadn ’t particularly felt any need to get to know.

“Don’t worry, Astrid,” another voice said from over Astrid’s shoulder. It belonged to a similarly smug-looking man. This was followed by a young woman, who was very nearly his double, adding, “We’ll make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble.”

The woman grinned, looking back and forth between Astrid and Merida.  “You organise a break for yourself,” she said with feigned casualness. “You deserve a …  _ break _ . ”

Astrid rolled her eyes as the other woman waggled her eyebrows.

“Just get going,” she told them, and the two of them laughed, snorted in unison, and started off towards the carts after Snotlout.

As they walked, one of them punched the other in the head. This did not seem to be unusual behaviour, since nobody else commented on it.

“Ruffnut and Tuffnut,” Astrid explained. “Don’t mind them.”

“You wait til you meet my brothers. Or rather, wait until my brothers happen to you.”

Astrid smirked.  “I know a little something about that. Now, I’ve got some inventories …”

“I’ll show you who’s in charge of what. Let’s get them distributed.”

“Great.”

Astrid picked up a few sheafs of paper from the foremost cart and let Merida lead her towards the castle.

As they walked through the grounds, Astrid looked around. Merida was about to make a comment  — just like she had to Rapunzel — about the experience of seeing a Castle in person for the first time, but she quickly realised that Astrid ’s eyes weren’t marvelling, they were calculating.

“Everything to your liking?” Merida asked, hoping to take the edge off the question with a little humour.

“Hm?” Astrid seemed to snap out of a train of thought. “Oh. Sorry. I was just thinking about how many people you’re going to need to fit in here.”

“Yeah,” Merida said, as the comment brought all of the worries crashing back in. “It’ll get harder soon.”

Astrid put her hand on Merida ’s shoulder. “Berk will pitch in.”

“Thanks,” Merida said. She almost didn’t stop herself glancing over at the hut, far away from the gates, where Rapunzel was painting by the window, and she knew Hiccup would be inside fretting. Astrid looked pretty sharp, and Merida didn’t want to give Hiccup away on the first day.

For now, she had to concentrate on getting everyone settled into the Castle.


	76. My Son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this technically how the high table should be laid out? Almost certainly not. Are we all just going to pretend that Elinor and Stoick would care more about seating their children with their friends than technically who was supposed to sit where? Yes, we’re going to all go with that answer.
> 
> Also I was wrong before. It’s not fluff that expands chapters to over 5000 words. It’s trying to put all the Dragonriders in a single conversation together because they never shut up.
> 
> Also Christine de Pizan was a real writer from real medieval France. I recommend Googling her if you’ve got some time.

Berk had brought supplies, and Elinor had said she expected a lot of the other towns would do the same, but Merida still noticed that, when they set out the big welcoming dinner for the town of newcomers, it was not a big feast. Merida ’s mum and dad made noises like it was a feast in Berk’s honour, and Stoick politely pretended that they’d spared no expense, but Merida didn’t know how many people they were fooling. Or maybe it was just that she was so close to them that she could see it was all an act. 

She spared a thought for the poor kitchen hands who would be responsible for making sure her brothers had their dinner in a separate room.

Rapunzel came in for dinner, but Jack and Hiccup stayed out at the hut together. Merida could see that Rapunzel was worrying about them, the way she kept glancing away from the table, and the way she kept fiddling with her fingers under the table.

Merida nudged her, as the rest of the guests arrived and began to take their places, and said,  “Buck up, Punzie. They’ll be fine.”

“Oh …” Rapunzel said, and fiddled with her fingers a little more. “It’s not them. I’m just … really bad at keeping secrets.”

“I’ll make sure the conversation doesn’t go close,” Merida assured her. “I’m not me mum, but I’ll make sure it goes smoothly.”

Rapunzel gave her a little, grateful smile.  “Thanks, Mer.” 

“Hey, a nickname!” Merida said, and grinned. “I like that one better than most of the others. It’s certainly better than Jack calling me ‘Princess’ all the time!”

“I can try and get him to stop,” Rapunzel said. 

“Ah, he’d only come up with something worse,” Merida said. “You should save your powers for more important things.”

Then Astrid and her friends arrived, and the conversation stopped. Merida got up to help people find their seats, and Rapunzel rushed to do the same, but only ended up standing and watching a little awkwardly. Poor lamb.

Merida, Rapunzel, and the young leaders from Berk were clustered at one end of the High Table. Merida was sitting next to her mum, who was next to Fergus. Stoick sat on Fergus ’s left, Gobber next to him, and then Elder Gothi.

On their side of the table, Rapunzel was seated next to Merida, then Astrid, then Snotlout at the end. Opposite them, Ruffnut and Tuffnut (who Merida was starting to suspect were as inseparable as her brothers), then a larger man who bore the most unfortunate name that Merida had ever heard: Fishlegs. She started to see why  ‘Hiccup’ was considered banal in Berk.

For a little while, Merida thought she and Rapunzel might not get to join in the conversation at all  — Ruffnut, Tuffnut and Snotlout were continuing an argument that they ’d apparently been having for most of the afternoon.

“But I’m telling you, it doesn’t matter how fast the cart _can_ go -!” 

“I’m not saying the cart is always going at top speed, numbskull, it’s about manoeuvrability -!”

“The horses will have _way_ more impact than -!”

Merida just decided to let them go for a while, until Astrid, clearly at the end of her patience with the argument, said,  “Hey, maybe we could be good guests and actually talk to our hosts?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Snotlout said, immediately turning his attention away from Ruffnut and Tuffnut and towards Merida and Astrid.

“Aw, Astrid!” Ruffnut complained.

“You know we forget all about arguments as soon as we finish them,” Tuffnut said. “You can’t stop us now, we’ll never know who was right!”

“As far as I’m concerned, that’s a good thing,” Astrid told him.

“So,” Snotlout said, leaning on the table past his plate. “I haven’t yet been formally introduced?” He raised an eyebrow suggestively at Merida.

“Merida Dunbroch,” Merida said. “And this is Rapunzel …” she hesitated as she realised that Rapunzel had never told her a family name. Merida certainly wasn’t about to call her by Gothel’s name. “Who is visiting for a while. And Pascal the chameleon.”

Pascal climbed out from underneath Rapunzel ’s hair and  _ gronk _ ed. 

“Pleasure,” Snotlout said, with his eyes suddenly on Pascal, not Rapunzel or Merida. “I … am Snotlout Jorgenson, and it is … um. Very nice to meet you?”

Rapunzel gave him a nervous smile. Pascal croaked smugly.

“I’m Ruffnut, this is Tuffnut. Thorston,” Ruffnut said, rolling her eyes. “And you don’t have to listen to him.”

“Yeah,” Tuffnut said, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head. “Nobody else does, which is why my wisdom is wasted on this uncaring world.”

“I meant Snotlout. But it goes double for you.”

“Fishlegs Ingerman,” Fishlegs said. “It’s nice to meet you. Uh, all three of you.” He nervously nodded at Pascal, as though afraid of offending the little chameleon.

Rapunzel looked extremely glad that the first course was served then, and she was saved from having to attempt to make small talk.

King Fergus stood up, and pounded on the table for quiet.  “Everyone! Berk, and Castle Dunbroch!” He settled his hands on his hips and surveyed the crowd. “I know what makes a good speech,” he said, “And it’s not long-winded talking, so I won’t do that. I just wanted to raise a toast.” He lifted his mug. “There will be more of these dinners to come,” he said. “And we are looking forward to them. Because the more dinners we have, the more people have come to the castle, and to safety.” He gave the mug a little shake, as though he’d been about to make a clinking motion. “And the more people we keep safe until all this is over, well, the better.” 

He looked down at Elinor, who nodded and smiled.

“To safety!” Fergus shouted, and there was a general chorus of “To safety!” 

Even Snotlout, Ruffnut and Tuffnut seemed to be taking the toast seriously, though the conclusion of the toast was somewhat interrupted by Ruffnut and Tuffnut getting into a shoving and headbutting match for a reason that Merida had completely missed.

“Chief Stoick,” Fergus said. “Any words?”

Stoick stood up, and Merida leaned around to see him a little better. His face was serious, and he lifted his mug.

“To survival,” he said. “If there’s one thing Berk has always been good at, it’s surviving. And to the Dunbrochs, for allowing us into their home.” He gave Fergus a quick smile and a clap on the back.

“To survival, and to the Dunbrochs!”

As the shouting quieted again, and Fergus served himself quickly so that the rest of them could start eating, Merida turned her attention quickly to the conversation on her parents ’ side of the table. Rapunzel was doing the same, Merida guessed, by the way she kept glancing over nervously. 

“Good toast,” Fergus said to Stoick, clapping him on the back. 

“Very kind of you,” Elinor said. 

Stoick spared a quick glance down the table and exchanged a quick nod and smile with Astrid. 

“Well,” Stoick said. “Let’s eat, so that everyone else can start.”

As soon as the high table had been served, the room filled with the bustle of conversation and crockery. Over the sound of the twins fighting, Merida didn ’t hear what her father said to Stoick, but she did hear her mother add, “And there will be others in other villages who know more. We’ll ask around and get everyone together. If Gothi would join us, too?”

Merida couldn ’t quite see as far as Gothi, but from the responses, she assumed that the old woman had nodded and smiled.

Suddenly Stoick sighed, and took a big swig from his mug.  “Ah, Odin. If Hiccup were here…”

Merida, from the corner of her eye, saw Rapunzel suddenly get very interested in her plate.

“I’m sorry,” Fergus said, voice full of sympathy.

“No, I’m sorry,” Stoick said, and straightened his shoulders, as if shrugging a cloak off. “He spent more time in the woods than in the village. He probably would have known a thing or two that would have helped. But I’m just being maudlin. There’s no point in dwelling on such things after so long.”

Merida turned back to see that the arguments among the younger Berkians had faded, too, and everyone seemed to be looking at their plates. She heard Gobber say,  “Well, I must say, this chicken is simply the best thing…”

Merida heard her mother change the topic, and their conversation moved on, but around Merida and Rapunzel, even Ruffnut and Tuffnut didn ’t seem to want to pick up the thread.

Rapunzel cast a glance at Merida, who tried to think of something to say. No matter how her mother tried, Merida ’s mind always seemed to go blank in situations like this. 

It was Tuffnut who broke the silence.  “He probably would have gone on for about three hours about trees first, though.”

Ruffnut elbowed him, hard, and he glared at her. He looked like he was about to start another shoving match, but Fishlegs cut them both off.  “He still would have had some pretty good ideas…”

“He was an idiot,” Astrid said, scowling and stabbing a piece of something off her plate and shoving it into her mouth.

There was another silence, long and awkward.

“What?” Astrid said. “We get told _every day_ as kids that wandering into the woods alone gets you killed. And how did he die?”

Ruffnut seemed to notice the slightly ashen look on Rapunzel ’s face, because she winked at Rapunzel and Merida, and stage-whispered, “Don’t worry about her. She misses him just like the rest of us. She just gets angry when she’s sad.”

Astrid blew her fringe out of her face, and said,  “So. Berk is the first group to get here, right?”

“Right,” Merida said, unable to explain how deeply grateful she was for the change in topic.

“How many more do you think you’ll be expecting?”

“Mum sent the evacuation order out to six villages,” Merida said. “Most of them are about the same size as Berk.”

“Hm,” Astrid said.

“So, is that why you came, too? The evacuation?” Snotlout asked Rapunzel, attempting but failing miserably to look suave and talk with his mouth full at the same time.

Rapunzel shook her head, pausing in the middle of handing some scraps from her plate to Pascal on her shoulder.  “Oh, no … I, uh. I live at the castle. The Dunbrochs took me in after I … lost my family. Sort of my family. It’s … complicated.”

Merida gave Rapunzel ’s arm a little squeeze. 

“Sounds like it,” Astrid said, voice full of sympathy. Merida made a mental note — she was much more serious than Jack, and had more of a temper, but it seemed like her mood could change just as quickly.

“Well, hey,” Snotlout said. “You know, you live with the Dunbrochs so they sort of adopted you, right? And like … every noble family in the country is basically related somehow, and I’m Stoick’s cousin. And these guys,” he said, nudging Astrid and Ruffnut with one elbow each, “Are practically my family. So in a roundabout sort of way, that makes you like … an honorary eighteenth cousin or something, right?” He looked around for support from the rest of the group.

“Sure,” Tuffnut said. “Like Berk families aren’t big enough already. Might as well add one more.”

“Wanna be my sister?” Ruffnut said. “You can replace this oaf.” She nudged Tuffnut.

“Uh-uh, no way. I have to swap _you_ for _her_. Girl for girl, otherwise it’s not fair,” Tuffnut said. “She’s _my_ new sister.”

“I said it first, get your _own_ sister,” Ruffnut growled, smacking her head against her brother’s. Their plates clattered against each other.

“I already _have_ one and she’s _awful_.”

Merida watched Rapunzel and Pascal exchange a glance.

Astrid chuckled.  “Feeling welcome yet?” she asked Rapunzel.

Rapunzel smiled in a way that struck Merida as more than half fear.  “Well …”

“Don’t worry, they’re happier fighting each other than anyone else,” Fishlegs told her with a smile. “I find they stop talking to me if I talk about books.”

“That’s because books are a waste of valuable time,” Tuffnut said, with one hand raised, distracted just long enough for his sister to steal something from his other hand. “Hey! Give that back!”

“Finders keepers! And I found it in your hand!”

“That’s not how that works …”

“I love books!” Rapunzel said. “Have you read Christine de Pizan?”

Merida decided to engage Astrid and Snotlout in conversation instead. Her mother had made her read de Pizan, but she really didn ’t remember much of it, and Rapunzel had already lost her after two sentences. She leaned around behind Rapunzel, nodded at the twins and said to Astrid, “I have three younger brothers and I feel like I’m looking into the future.”

Snotlout shuddered.  “Three of them? My sympathies for … everyone in the castle.”

Merida snorted.  “You have no idea.”

Astrid sighed suddenly.  “I’m sorry,” she said. “For getting angry before.”

Merida shook her head quickly.  “Oh, no … it’s fine!”.

“Yeah,” Snotlout said. “We understand.” His sympathy was just awkward enough, Merida thought, to be really genuine. “So, Merida -” he hesitated. “Uh, Your Highness —”

Merida snorted.  “Just Merida, fourteenth-cousin-thrice-removed … or whatever,” she said with a grin. 

“Well, in that case,” Snotlout said. “What’s the best thing to _do_ around the castle?”

“According to my mother,” Merida said, “Generally reading or sewing. But there’s riding and hunting, and uh …” She tried to think of something else that wouldn’t involve them exploring the grounds too much. She gave Snotlout an evil grin, to cover up her hesitation. “Or I’m sure the nursemaids would be grateful to you if you took the three boys off their hands for an afternoon…”

Snotlout laughed nervously.  “Hunting! Sounds great! Who else loves hunting? Hunting is just … the best.”

Merida giggled. 

A few minutes later, she swapped seats with Rapunzel, so that she didn ’t have to keep leaning past the involved conversation with Fishlegs in order to talk to Astrid and Snotlout. Pascal joined her a moment later, and she grinned.

“Not a book person, either, Pascal?”

He made a  _ skronk _ noise, and tried to steal some lettuce from her plate. She let him have it.

The second course was served soon after, and the feast continued well into the evening.


	77. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to goodness there’s plot but it’s vitally important that I write all the characters interacting for another eighteen scenes first.
> 
> Also can you tell I have … just way too much fun writing Tuffnut?

Merida woke up the morning after the feast to find that she and Astrid had similar opinions about times to wake up in the morning. They both ended up coming out of their rooms at similar times to get ready for the hunting party.

“Breakfast?” Merida offered.

“Not sure I need it after dinner last night,” Astrid said, “But I need the biggest glass of water you have before we go out.”

“I’ll get the cooks to bring out the buckets,” Merida said.

“Perfect.”

As they walked past, Snotlout, his hair all sticking up on one side and his eyes still squinting against the morning, poked his head around the side of his door.

“You’re too loud,” he complained.

“If we didn’t wake you up, you’d never be on time for anything,” Astrid told him.

“That’s not true!” Snotlout called after them down the hall. “I didn’t say you woke me up, only that you were too loud! I was awake and am … _more_ than ready to leave for hunting!” 

Astrid rolled her eyes, and said to Merida,  “We’ll see him at breakfast in half an hour.”

  
  


***

  
  


They did see Snotlout at breakfast, though it wasn ’t quite half an hour later. Apparently Ruffnut and Tuffnut had decided to sit the hunt out, saying that they’d had enough of horses for at least a month. Merida wasn’t sure what it would take to make that happen to her, but she accepted that the two of them could be wrong, and that shouldn’t reflect badly on them. 

They ate and met the rest of the party outside, Merida cooing to Angus as she saddled him up. The other horses had already been prepared by the stablehands, but Merida always saddled Angus herself. She ’d intended to leave breakfast a little early for that so she wasn’t holding everyone up, but she’d gotten caught up talking.

While the others were milling about, she looked up from tightening Angus ’s girth as the stable’s back door opened. Rapunzel, her hair still all askew from sleep, slipped into the stable and sat down on the bench next to the rest of Merida’s tack.

“Morning,” she said.

“Morning, Punzie. Didn’t think you’d be up til we were gone.”

“Jack woke me up,” Rapunzel said, and Merida paused so that she could look at her properly.

“Everything alright?” From the tone of Rapunzel’s voice, Merida wasn’t sure if it was something Jack had said or something he’d implied, but it seemed like it hadn’t been a good conversation.

“He said he’s looking after your brothers today,” Rapunzel said.

“A mixed blessing, I’m sure,” Merida said, certain that hadn’t been the focus of the conversation, and waiting for Rapunzel to work up the courage to drop the other shoe.

“Have you … seen …” Rapunzel glanced over the stables, trying to check for other people.

“Not this morning,” Merida said, guessing that she meant ‘Hiccup’. “I’ve been with Astrid and the Berkians.”

“Well, I’m taking news. About last night,” Rapunzel said. “Anything in particular you think I should say?”

Merida thought about it for a while, going to the side of the bench so she could pick up Angus ’s bridle. “Not really,” she said. “Just tell him what happened.”

“About … Astrid, too?” Rapunzel asked quietly.

Merida frowned.  “Well … don’t keep it from him,” she said, finally. “If he wants the truth, he wants the whole truth.”

Rapunzel nodded, and looked towards the window. For a moment it looked like she was going to say something else, but then Astrid and the twins arrived in the stables.

“Hey, your Highness!” Ruffnut shouted, and Merida wondered if Jack might be jealous to know that there was someone who could actually make “your Highness” sound like a nickname. “You nearly done?”

“Yeah, keep your shirt on!” Merida called back.

“Good,” Tuffnut said, as he came to the stall, tried to look over Angus’s back, but had to settle for looking around him instead. “Because Snotlout is trying to suck up to your father and frankly it’s a little creepy.”

“Yeah, we’re all waiting for you,” Astrid said. “Oh, hey, Rapunzel!”

Rapunzel gave them all a little wave.  “Hi, everyone.”

Astrid waved back.  “So, your Highness?” she asked with an eyebrow arched and her arms folded. “Ready?”

Merida finished coaxing the bit into Angus ’s mouth, and slipped the straps over his head. She tightened some straps and did up the buckles, double checked that everything was in the right place, and picked up Angus’s reins. “Alright, done,” she said.

“Alright!” Tuffnut said, with a bow and a flourish. “We, being myself and my dear sister, are going to entertain ourselves around the castle like the people of leisure we are.”

“You going to join us?” Ruffnut asked Rapunzel.

“Oh, uh …” Rapunzel said. “A … actually, I have something I need to finish.”

“No problem!” Tuffnut said. “If you want to come join us, just follow the sounds of admiration.” He made a dramatic gesture with his hands.

Ruffnut rolled her eyes.  “So what sound does admiration make?”

“I have no idea,” Tuffnut said, “Berk being desensitised to my greatness. But she will know it,” he paused for dramatic effect, “when she hears it.”

“Ugh,” Ruffnut said. “Hey, Rapunzel? When you’ve finished your job, you better come save me, or I’m gonna hang him out the top window of the castle.”

“Because she can’t live with the jealousy of never being able to match up to the excellence of me, the clearly superior sibling.”

“ _Ugh_.”

Merida led Angus out of the stables, and Astrid accompanied her over to the hunting group, waving to the twins and Rapunzel as they left.

  
  


***

  
  


Jack was fidgeting.

And it wasn ’t helping Hiccup. He knew he was driving Hiccup up the wall, and that he was supposed to be supportive, and that it was better that he was at the hut because none of the Dunbrochs needed to try and explain to anyone from Berk about Jack or his relationship to the group, or his past. But he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t designed to be inside, not in any way, shape or form, and none of the seven or eight tasks and chores that Hiccup had pushed at him over the last three hours had done any good. 

“Just go outside for a bit,” Hiccup told him. 

“Are you sure?” Jack asked.

“You’re making me fidget just looking at you. Yes, I’m sure.”

Jack sighed. He knew it was best, and he  _ had _ promised to look after Merida ’s brothers, but … he didn’t exactly want to leave Hiccup, either. 

He slipped out the back window of the hut, rather than the front door, so that Hiccup wouldn ’t worry about him being seen from the castle. Not that he was ever seen if he didn’t want to be, but anything to make Hiccup feel a little better. 

As he did, he heard the sound of another cart. 

A straggler from Berk?

He lifted himself off the ground a little, climbing up his staff, and knocked on the frame of Hiccup ’s window.

Hiccup looked up and jumped like a startled deer. Even though Jack was trying to be sympathetic, he had to admit, it was at least a  _ little _ bit funny. He chuckled, then said,  “Head down. There’s one more coming.”

Hiccup glanced in the direction of the gates, and nodded at Jack. 

Jack strolled away from the hut as though he ’d meant to be going that direction all along, and arranged it so that he ‘just happened’ to be passing by the gate at the same time as the newcomer.

There was only one person sitting on the little driver ’s ledge, steering the horses up to the gates. The cart was piled high with boxes of things, led by a pair of horses, old, work-worn and certainly not a pure-bred anything, but strong and healthy.

“Aster!” Jack shouted, before he could stop himself.

Aster looked up from the cart, and raised an eyebrow.  “Missed me that much, Frost?” 

Jack asked the wind for a little help, and he alighted on the driver ’s seat next to Aster for the last stretch of the journey to the castle.

“You’re just gonna have to get up in less than a minute,” Aster grumbled. “Bloody show-pony.”

Jack grinned.  “Ah, it’s fine, I’d be up in that long anyway. I’ve been told I need to go out and get all my fidgets out.”

“I see.” Aster pulled the horses to a stop at the gates. “So, any visitors yet?”

“Berk,” Jack said, and Aster gave him a look like he’d noticed the note in Jack’s voice.

“So,” he said. “Your boyfriend?”

Jack nodded subtly towards the hut, which looked mostly quiet and abandoned.

“Ah,” Aster said.

“So, uh. As far as everyone else is concerned, he doesn’t exist for now,” Jack said.

“Got it,” Aster said. “I’ll keep me mouth shut.”

“Thanks,” Jack said.

Aster glanced sidelong at the hut without turning his head.  “Maybe I’ll visit and keep him company a bit.”

“Sure,” Jack said. “He’d probably be happy to see you.”

“Right,” Aster said. There was something in his voice that wasn’t quite disbelief, but wasn’t quite agreement, either. Decision, perhaps? Never mind — for as much as he wanted Hiccup all to himself all the time, Jack was glad that it wasn’t just him that would be keeping Hiccup company. Of course, Punzie and Merida would come down, but he wasn’t sure how often they’d be free.

“Thought you weren’t coming back,” Jack said.

“Well, someone tipped me off that there was going to be a party at the Castle,” Aster said. “And you know how I can’t resist a social gathering.”

“Oh,” Jack said. “I hear good things about showing up unannounced to social gatherings.”

They shared a grin.

Jack jumped off the cart as some of the castle workers came to talk to Aster, take his things from the cart and find places for everything. 

“See you ‘round, Frost,” he said, as Jack left to find Merida’s brothers.


	78. News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (un)birthday I got you feelings

Jack had already been gone for a while when Hiccup finally got started working. He ’d argued with himself for a long time about what exactly he wanted to do. The shed needed to be built, but that would involve going outside. There was carving to do as well, but that, too, would require working outside for a while.

If he made a kindling box, maybe he could carve inside and just keep the shavings  … he could always clean up the hut after dark, when he wasn’t so likely to be seen … 

So when there was a knock at the door, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

But it was only Rapunzel with her easel.

“Morning,” she said, with that little nervous shrug of her shoulders. “Am I interrupting?”

“No,” Hiccup said, and decided that he was going to trust that she had checked that nobody was looking for her and that she wasn’t followed. 

She slipped inside and closed the door behind her, setting her easel near the door. Then she sat down on the floor behind Hiccup, and Hiccup tensed a little when he realised that she was sitting back to back with him.

“Sorry,” she said.

“No, it’s fine,” Hiccup said, making an effort to lower his shoulders. “You just startled me.”

“Alright,” she said, and she did seem to relax a little, too, at his assurance. She opened a jar and started to make sure that her brushes were completely clean, a routine Hiccup had seen sometimes before she started to paint, when she wasn’t sure what she might work on, or if she was particularly nervous.

“Everything alright?” he asked, still looking down at the half-carved spoon in his hands.

“I’m fine,” Rapunzel said, in a way that made Hiccup think there was a ‘but’ after it. “Everyone … I mean, except for you, me and Jack … Fergus took the important people from Berk out hunting this morning. Merida went with them.” 

“That’ll be good,” Hiccup said. “It’s daytime and they’re in North’s territory now, so they’ll be fairly safe. And it’ll be good for the Castle larders.”

Rapunzel hummed agreement, and then picked up a second brush.  “Jack said you might want some news about … things.”

“I do,” Hiccup said. “I’ll only fret if I don’t hear anything, and then Merida won’t be happy with me.” He knew it sounded a little rote. It was true — he would only fret if he didn’t hear anything. He just wasn’t sure that having news would _prevent_ fretting, either. He tried for a smile, even though Rapunzel couldn’t see him. Maybe she would hear it in his voice. 

“He said I should be the one to tell you about it,” Rapunzel said. “Since he wasn’t there last night, and Merida is … busy.”

“You don’t have to,” Hiccup said. 

“No, if you want to know, you should know,” Rapunzel said. She paused for a moment, put the second brush aside, and started on her last, largest one. “Well … they do miss you.”

“They said as much?” Hiccup said.

“Your father said he wished you were there,” Rapunzel said, “Because you knew the woods and might have been able to help with things … with all the trouble now.”

Hiccup couldn ’t help chuckling. That was a big change, then. He personally remembered some very specific things his father had had to say about the exact utility of his outings to the woods, or their lack thereof. “That’s nice to hear, I suppose. Did the others happen to say anything moderately complimentary, since they have the opportunity now?”

Rapunzel hesitated again, and Hiccup sighed.  “I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re just here to tell me what happened, and you didn’t have to come. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

He felt Rapunzel shrug against his back.  “It’s alright, I guess,” she said. “It’s … probably not easy for you to hear either.”

“That’s not really an excuse,” Hiccup muttered. “Keep going. I’ll try not to be petty.”

“Well,” Rapunzel said. “The others … Snotlout, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Fishlegs … said they agreed, that it would be better if you were there.”

“I notice there’s a name missing.” Hiccup said.

“Well, Astrid said …”

Hiccup chuckled again.  “Let me guess. She wasn’t quite as forgiving as the others.”

“N … no,” Rapunzel said. “She uh … might have called you a few names, actually.”

“Figures,” Hiccup said. She’d never really made it a secret that she’d always sort of resented him for being the son of the Chief, the next in line to be Chief, and a screw-up all at the same time.

“Ruffnut said it was just because she gets angry when she’s sad, though,” Rapunzel said quickly. “And … I got busy talking to Fishlegs, but Merida said that later, she apologised for getting angry. I think … well, Merida and Jack agree, but it really seems like Ruffnut is right. Astrid tends to get angry when she feels other emotions she doesn’t like. I don’t think she really … well, I don’t know her so I can’t say. But I don’t think she’s really angry _at you_.” Another long pause. “The others seemed genuinely sad, too.”

Hiccup had expected, halfway through her speech, that he would have been trying to fight down a sarcastic response, but he found that by the time she had finished, that had died somewhere around his chest, and had become a solid mass sitting right at the bottom of his throat and making it hard to breathe.

“Thanks,” he said instead. “For letting me know.”

“I think everyone’s trying to act … well, normal, too,” Rapunzel said, and Hiccup was grateful for the change in topic. “I think Stoick and Elinor … and Fergus, I mean, are trying not to let anyone panic.” 

Hiccup could understand the mistake. He was sure that Fergus had input into decisions somewhere, but it was very easy to forget that sometimes.

“So … they’ve taken a hunting party,” Rapunzel said. “I think that it’s also so they can get out of the Castle and let all the servants finish getting everything … where it needs to go.”

Hiccup nodded. 

Rapunzel had finished the brushes now, but she had put them by her side rather than starting to set up the easel. She tucked up her legs and leaned against Hiccup ’s back.

Hiccup sighed.  “I’m such a fool,” he said, after a while.

“Why’s that?” Rapunzel asked, and Hiccup was a little surprised to hear that she didn’t ask the question like she was afraid of the answer.

“Well,” Hiccup said, then sighed. “I could have made it a clean break, you know? I could have moved far away. Clean across the other side of the woods. But I stayed close, and I decided I’d keep patrolling nearby, and …” he paused. “You know, I went back a few times, in those first months. Not where people could see me. Just to … watch.” He put the finished spoon down into the bowl, and dusted his hands off so he could push his hair back away from his face without getting too many wood chips through it.

“I understand,” Rapunzel said.

“Really?” Hiccup asked.

“Mm,” Rapunzel said. “If I knew where the tower was … if I wouldn’t have had to ask Jack to take me … I probably would have tried to do the same thing with Mo — with Gothel by now.” She shrugged against his back again. “Not to go back. Just to … see.”

They were silent for a while, then Rapunzel asked,  “Do you get that feeling, still … when you kind of want them to be doing badly without you? Like you just want to know that everything’s … well, maybe this one doesn’t apply to you, but I keep feeling like I want to go back and see whether all the shelves are dusty because I wasn’t there to clean them … or that Gothel is running out of candles because I’m not there to make them? Even though I know she can probably do all that with magic anyway.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “I tend to cover it up by reminding myself I was just in the way when I was at the village anyway.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Rapunzel said.

“It … sort of was,” Hiccup said. “Sometimes I think I did it deliberately, you know? Just because, well …” he trailed off. “I don’t really know. Because not being contrary felt like giving up?” He shrugged. “Stupid kid logic.”

“No,” Rapunzel said. “Stupid kid logic is never leaving your house because someone told you that it was scary outside and you believed them even when you knew they were a liar.”

Hiccup didn ’t say anything. 

“I’m sure someone else would have something more insightful to say,” Rapunzel said.

“I do babble,” Hiccup said. “I don’t do insightful.”

“It’s comforting babble, though,” Rapunzel said.

Then, after a moment, Hiccup asked,  “What would you do?”

“Me? About what?”

“If you were in my place,” Hiccup said, “Would you tell Stoick and … everyone … that you’re still alive?” 

Rapunzel didn ’t answer for a long time, and Hiccup said, “I mean … I haven’t asked Merida. I didn’t ask Elinor, because she already told me what she thinks. And Jack … I don’t think he wants to tell me one way or the other.”

“You know we’ll all support you, whatever you decide,” Rapunzel said.

“I know,” Hiccup said. “But maybe I’m not the one who should make the choice.”

He could feel Rapunzel scrunching herself up a little tighter, and he sighed. He shouldn ’t have put pressure on her like that. It was his decision, not hers, and she probably had more than enough to be thinking about herself, since she’d left Gothel a lot more recently than he’d left Berk.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly, after a while.

“It’s alright,” Hiccup said. “I mean, I don’t know, either.”

“But Elinor is … pretty smart about things like this,” she said quietly. “And Merida might agree with her, I think.”

“I think she would,” Hiccup said. “I don’t think she likes secrets very much.”

“She’ll still keep it secret!” Rapunzel said quickly.

“I know she will,” Hiccup reassured her. “She just doesn’t _like_ them.”

There was silence again for a while, then Hiccup said,  “Thanks. For listening. But I’m keeping you from your painting.”

“Actually,” Rapunzel said. “There was one more thing.”

She got up, and Hiccup realised that there were two canvases on the easel, and that she ’d faced them both inward so he couldn’t see what was on them.

She took the top painting off the easel, and handed it to Hiccup.

“I thought a painting might help liven up the place,” she said.

It was a painting of the clearing, and his old hut. There in the front, was the hut itself, and peeking round the corner, the rabbit hutch and the vegetable gardens, and next to them the shed. It was morning in the painting, and the leaves were all sunrise colours. The woods just a little more shadowy than they needed to be, but the scene itself was cheerful and bright.

“Thank you,” Hiccup whispered.

Rapunzel shrugged.  “I was having trouble coming up with things to paint, and, well … I thought you might like it.”

“I’ll hang it right now,” Hiccup said, standing up. “I’ll get the hammer, and some string.”

She went outside, and a little way away from the hut, to paint, while Hiccup hung the painting beside the sink, across from the wardrobe and the bed.

He still had a lot of carving to do. But before that, he sat on the bed, and looked at the painting for a long time.


	79. First of Many Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Let’s write a serious scene  
> Me @ me: Write it with the three characters least able to take anything seriously.

Rapunzel waited, painting, for Hiccup to leave the hut for an hour or so, but he stayed inside, even after the sounds of the painting being hung were finished. Rapunzel poked her head in the door to tell him that she was going back to the castle for a few things, and he waved her goodbye, seeming a little more cheerful, but also distracted. She decided to just leave him be. It probably wasn ’t anything to do with her.

The first person that she came across in the castle was not actually, Ruffnut and Tuffnut.

It was Jack.

“Nope, other way,” Jack was saying, somehow managing to turn all three of the triplets by looping his staff around the foremost of them and guiding him to a different direction. “Remember! We can’t get stopped here, so we’re going _around_ the unpacking. Oh, Punzie!” 

Rapunzel tried to keep up with them, but the easel was making it too difficult to keep up with the triplets as they scaled stairs with a speed and agility that was certainly not human.

Jack grinned.  “Listen, we’ll be finished in a few minutes,” he said. “Let me just keep this one promise, and I’ll come find you back here, alright?”

Rapunzel nodded, and went to put her easel away.

The twins found her fifteen minutes later while she was waiting for Jack.

“Aw, you got back too soon!” Tuffnut said. “We were planning a surprise for you, but we didn’t manage to get it all together in time. Hey, Pascal.”

Pascal acknowledged the greeting, as he usually did for people who weren ’t Rapunzel, with a suspicious croak.

“He’s lying,” Ruffnut said, as she gave Rapunzel a big hug hello, and attempted to pat Pascal on the head with a finger, despite his glare. “He just wants you to think he was planning something so you’ll be grateful to him anyway.”

“Hey, just because I didn’t tell you about it doesn’t mean I wasn’t planning it,” Tuffnut said. “I don’t tell you everything.”

“You never shut up,” Ruffnut said. “There can’t possibly be anything you don’t tell me about.”

“I take exception to that, but I will refrain from arguing because we have a companion,” Tuffnut said, pointing to Rapunzel. He turned back to Rapunzel with a huge grin on his face. “So. What are we doing now?” 

“Do … you mind if we wait here for a minute?” Rapunzel asked. “I’ve got someone else coming to meet me, and I said I’d wait here for him for a while.” 

“Sure,” Ruffnut said. “Who’s your friend?”

“Actually … my brother,” Rapunzel said. “His name is Jack.”

“Jack?” Ruffnut and Tuffnut exchanged a glance. Ruffnut asked, “Where did I hear that today…?”

“Oh!” Tuffnut snapped his fingers. “The one managing the red-haired moving explosion.”

Rapunzel giggled.  “Yes, that’s him.”

“How come _you_ get the cool brother?” Ruffnut asked.

“Who has cool brothers?” Jack asked. He’d turned up behind the twins, staff over his shoulder and bare feet as usual. Pascal _gronk_ ed at him, to say that he only accepted Jack as Rapunzel’s brother under extenuating circumstances, and he certainly drew the line at Jack being ‘cool’.

“Jack!” Rapunzel said. “Done with the triplets?”

“They’re the _princes_?” Ruffnut asked. 

Rapunzel gave her an apologetic look.

“Ah, we’re an unusual bunch,” Jack said. “Ruffnut?” he asked, pointing to her. “And Tuffnut?” He turned and pointed to him.

“Got it in one,” Tuffnut said.

“I had an informant,” Jack said. “Being friends with a princess has its advantages.”

“Uh,” Tuffnut said. “Not to be rude …”

“Here we go,” Ruffnut interjected.

Tuffnut continued as though she hadn ’t spoken. “You look kinda cold. And did you lose your shoes somewhere?”

Rapunzel glanced over at Jack nervously. How was he going to explain that?

“Nah, that’s just my face,” Jack said, as though he answered the question every day. “And shoes aren’t really my thing.”

Rapunzel expected more questions, but Tuffnut just grinned and said.  “Nice. Not letting anything, even inevitable freezing death, get to you. I like your style.”

“Cool,” Ruffnut agreed, folding her arms.

“So did anyone actually have a plan?” Tuffnut said. “Not that talking isn’t great, but talking is for when you have food in front of you and nothing better to do.”

Ruffnut gave Rapunzel a look that clearly said,  ‘do you see what I have to put up with?’

Jack looked at Rapunzel, too, to answer the question, and Rapunzel, finding her hand wandering to her opposite arm, like it always did when she got nervous, and her gaze wandering somewhere between Ruffnut and Jack off to the other side of the hall. 

“I was wondering … actually maybe you three could help me with something?”

Ruffnut, Tuffnut and Jack looked at each other.

“Well, I’m interested,” Jack said.

  
  


***

  
  


“Just admit that you have no idea what you’re doing,” Tuffnut said, as Ruffnut tilted Rapunzel’s head for about the seventh time. Pascal’s glare deepened. Rapunzel suspected that Tuffnut was fairly close to getting a sticky tongue to the ear.

“Will you shut up? Just because you’d have made a mess of things,” Ruffnut snapped back at him.

“Well, don’t look at me,” Jack told Tuffnut. “She already took the scissors off me.”

“Yeah, because this is too important to trust to _inexperienced hands_.”

Tuffnut leaned back and put his hands behind his head.  “Go on. I want to see how this ends.” He grinned. “Don’t worry, Punzie. I’ll punch her in the face for you if she ruins everything.”

Rapunzel tried to give Tuffnut a weak smile, but she knew her nerves were showing behind it.  “It’s OK,” she said. “I can’t see my own head, so … it’s not like it’ll bother  _ me _ too much  …” Alright, well, that was a lie, but even though Ruffnut and Tuffnut seemed to look for excuses to fight, she wasn’t sure she could stand her hair being one of them.

“Uh, I cut our cousins’ hair _all the time_ ,” Ruffnut said. “I know what I’m doing.”

She gave Rapunzel ’s shoulder a squeeze, and Rapunzel twined her hands around each other. 

When she ’d suggested to them that she wanted to cut her hair, Jack had agreed much quicker than she had thought he would. He’d even seemed glad that she’d asked. Tuffnut and Ruffnut had deduced very quickly that she had never had a haircut before, and moreover that she had been forbidden from haircuts when she was a child, and their eyes had lit up as though she’d just given them expensive birthday presents. It had been … a little nerve-wracking, actually.

She still wasn ’t sure how she felt about Tuffnut doing his best to assure her that she was going to look awful, but she suspected — hoped, really — that was more because his main source of entertainment seemed to be enraging Ruffnut than because he actually believed anything he was saying.

“Hey, Punzie?” Jack asked, as Ruffnut tilted her head back and forth, and started to pull at the ties that held her thrice-braided hair in place.

“Yes, Jack?” Rapunzel asked, unable to look up at him with her head tilted towards the floor so it was easy for Ruffnut to get at her braid.

“You sure about this?” he asked.

“No,” Rapunzel said, with a small grin. “But … I’m more sure about cutting it than leaving it there.”

“That’s the spirit,” Ruffnut said. “It’s your hair! I’d have decked anyone who said I couldn’t have my hair the way I wanted it!”

Rapunzel felt a cold terror, but also a dark sort of amusement at the thought of Ruffnut attempting to  ‘deck’ Gothel.

“Yeah,” Tuffnut said. “You show that mysterious person that I have no idea who they are!”

“Thanks,” Rapunzel said, with a smile that she knew the rest of them couldn’t see.

“Hey, in a way, it’ll be even better if my sister makes a mess of it,” Tuffnut said. “What’s more rebellious than getting your first haircut and making it _really, really ugly_? Yeurgh!”

Pascal ’s tongue hit him square in the ear, and he jerked sideways, tumbling off the side of the bench he was sitting on, much to Jack’s amusement, Pascal looking after him with a look of still-disgruntled triumph.

“Will you quit it?” Ruffnut asked.

She finally pulled the tie of the braid free, and both Ruffnut and Tuffnut gasped as Rapunzel ’s hair uncurled, flowing down over the back of the chair and across the floor, the end of the inner braid dropping to the floor with a soft  _ thwump _ .

“Wow,” Tuffnut said, getting back to his feet and trying to rub his ear dry. “You weren’t kidding when you said that you’d never cut it, were you?”

Rapunzel gave him a thin smile, moving her head as much as she dared so that he could see the expression.

“Alright,” Ruffnut said. “I’m gonna … just cut it off at the braid, and tidy it up afterwards. Don’t listen to Tuffnut when he starts laughing, OK? It’s just because I’m not done yet.”

“Aw, you take the fun out of everything.”

“So …” Ruffnut seemed to be hesitating now, as though there being so much more hair than she expected had suddenly made her less sure she could do it. “How long do you want it?”

“You don’t have to do it, if you’re too nervous,” Rapunzel said, knowing full well that she wouldn’t have the courage to do it herself.

“Punzie?” Ruffnut asked. “I am a force for change and self-expression. If you want the hair gone, it’s gone.”

Rapunzel breathed out a long breath. Sometime in the past two hours, the twins had picked up using her nickname as well, and even though it had made her feel awkward when Jack had given it to her, now it was almost calming. 

Pascal climbed up onto her lap and patted her finger with his tiny foot. She tried to give him a smile.

“So, how long?” Ruffnut asked, running a hand down the braid, as though trying to find the place where she could get the best grip on the hair. 

“Short,” Rapunzel said. “Really short. But, um. Still a little … feminine?” She didn’t know how she felt about giving herself a haircut like Jack’s, or Hiccup’s. But she definitely wanted it shorter than either Ruffnut’s or Astrid’s. She didn’t want it long enough to braid, or tie back, and she certainly didn’t want to have to spend so much time brushing it anymore.

“You got it,” Ruffnut said, chose a spot on the braid, and cut it off.

It took her a little effort to get through the braid, since it was so thick, but the scissors were newly sharp and Ruffnut clearly had some strength to put behind them. As soon as she did, the other three gasped, and Tuffnut swore. Rapunzel looked over to the braid lying on the floor next to her chair. There was a faint hissing noise, and Rapunzel saw the hair coiled over the floor, from shorn edges to the tips, turn from the bright blond she had always known to a light but rich brown.

They all sat silent for a moment, looking down at the hair on the floor. Rapunzel felt all thought drain from her mind, and she heard herself saying,  “That’s alright. I always sort of liked brown hair anyway.”

Jack said,  “Well, I think it suits you, Punzie.” 

“Hell yeah!” Ruffnut said.

“Can you do it the other way, too?” Tuffnut asked. “Maybe with like … ripples and stuff?”

Rapunzel tried again for a smile, to try and make it seem like she had expected something like this to happen, or at least pretend she wasn ’t feeling like she might pass out.

She felt the shears again, and her hands twined around each other harder.

Jack said something that she didn ’t quite hear, and then she realised that Jack had been talking to Tuffnut for some time, but she hadn’t heard a word. Ruffnut repositioned her head. Tuffnut snorted with laughter.

Ruffnut finally finished, and without even waiting for the others, picked Rapunzel off the chair and shepherded her over to the big, brass mirror on the wall. In the slightly wobbly reflection on the wall, she saw that Ruffnut had given her a haircut that was shorter than her shoulders, but not too close to the head. Her hair splayed out at the ends, framing her face. Pascal sat on her shoulder, looking between her and the mirror, worry in his eyes. She raised her hands and pushed them upwards through the hair on the back of her head.

Jack was right. It did look good. And Ruffnut had done a good job, despite everything Tuffnut said.

“Thanks,” she said, for a lack of anything else to say. 

Behind her, blurry in the mirror, she saw Jack  — or rather his hair and his stick — and then Ruffnut said,  “I’m gonna clean up your hair before the idiot steals it or something.”

And the next thing she knew, she and Jack were alone in the room.

“How do you like it?” his slightly distorted face said in the mirror.

Rapunzel turned around, wrapped her arms around Jack, and started to cry.


	80. Reintroduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re: last chapter -- it seems like I'm obliged to end at least one chapter each fic with someone crying for Complicated reasons.

Jack just held Rapunzel for a while as she cried into his shoulder. It took her a long time  — long enough that at some point Jack had guided them both to the big chair in the corner and sat them down, and given her a handkerchief, and she was hiccoughing so hard that her chest hurt.

“S … sorry,” she said, still holding the borrowed handkerchief to her face.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Jack said.

“Sorry,” Rapunzel said again, and leaned into Jack again until she could pretend that nobody else could see her.

Jack rubbed her shoulder as she caught her breath for a while.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Rapunzel said quietly. “I shouldn’t have … Jack, why did I do that?”

“Hey,” Jack said soothingly, “It’s your hair, so you can decide what you want to do with it. It’ll grow back, if that’s what you want. I think it looks great, though. You made a great choice.”

“But …” Rapunzel said. “What if … what if there was something important? You saw it change colour, and there was so much Mother didn’t tell me about … what if keeping my hair long was something really important?”

“If it’s important, it’s only important to her. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“But …”

“Hey,” Jack said again. “I’ve been around fairy magic just as long as you. Maybe longer, since I spent time with Tooth and North, and Gothel never really used magic around you, right?”

“M … maybe,” Rapunzel replied.

“So, you can trust me about fairy magic, right?” Jack said. “I mean … you didn’t even know that Gothel was fairy until I told you, right?”

“Yeah,” Rapunzel said quietly. And she did trust Jack about fairy magic, it was true. He knew a lot more than her. About everything. Really, she didn’t know very much at all, compared to him and Hiccup and Merida.

“So, listen,” Jack said. “Fairy magic is subtle, but when it comes to breaking taboos, it’s also pretty immediate. Remember when you left the tower? Whatever made your hair change colour, that was definitely something Gothel wanted, not something you need to worry about..”

Something Gothel wanted  … Rapunzel gripped his collar a little tighter. “Jack … am I a bad person?”

“What? Punzie, you’re the human equivalent of a baby rabbit that brings people cake. Bad should be embarrassed to even be in the same _sentence_ as you.”

“But I ran away from her,” Rapunzel said. “She wasn’t … nice, but she did a lot for me. And I ran away … and now my hair…”

“Punzie,” Jack said. “She’s one of Pitch’s people. She’s capital-E ‘Evil’. If she ever did anything for you — and I’m not really convinced she did — it’s because she wanted something from you. You don’t owe her anything.” 

“Does that matter? Shouldn’t … even if it was for bad reasons … shouldn’t I be a bit grateful…?”

“No,” Jack said firmly. “She locked you in a tower, Punzie, and don’t think I didn’t listen to some of the things she used to say to you.” He held her a bit tighter. “Running away and cutting your hair isn’t even half of what she deserves for treating you the way she did.”

Rapunzel blew her nose  — knowing the handkerchief was already soaked, but doing her best to clean herself up a little anyway — and buried her face into Jack ’s shoulder. “I just want to forget her,” she said, miserably. “I wish I didn’t think about her. I wish I didn’t know her.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I wish you didn’t know her, either.”

Rapunzel sniffed, and tried to find a place on the handkerchief to blow her nose that wouldn ’t just … make things worse. .

“Got another for you,” Jack said.

“You carry around two?”

“When I’m with the triplets, I carry at least six,” Jack said. “You wouldn’t believe how useful they are.”

Rapunzel took the second handkerchief off him and used it to wipe her face down and clear her nose once more. She hiccoughed and sniffed, and then looked around the room.

“Where … did Ruffnut and Tuffnut go?” she asked.

“Ah, they went off arguing somewhere,” Jack said. “They’ll keep themselves entertained.”

“Let’s go find them,” Rapunzel said, standing up. “I promised Ruffnut I’d spend time with them today, and I think …” she sniffed again, and laughed weakly. “I think I’m all cried out.”

“Whatever you want,” Jack said, pushing himself up and standing beside her. His coat was all blotchy where she’d cried onto it.

She scrubbed at her face a little with the handkerchief.  “Is it obvious?” she asked.

Jack looked as if he were very seriously considering saying no, then his expression of sympathy and consternation  — there only for a moment — was replaced with a grin.  “Like you dove face-first into a beehive,” he said. “I’ll tell everyone I dared you to do it, so they won’t ask questions.”

Rapunzel gave him a shove, but it was oddly comforting to know that if she asked him to do it, he ’d not only tell everyone with a straight face, he’d insist, loudly and with increasingly-detailed descriptions until they agreed to drop the subject..

They found Ruffnut and Tuffnut loitering around the kitchens, having managed to convince some bread and pickles from the cooks, and were sitting on the bench outside eating them in a rare moment of relative silence.

“Hey!” Ruffnut said, waving as they arrived.

“I see you managed to console her,” Tuffnut said. “I told you Ruffnut would ruin the haircut.”

“Oh, so now you’re calling her _ugly_?” Ruffnut asked him.

To his credit, Tuffnut didn ’t even hesitate. “No! Just her haircut. Really, it’s a credit to her that she makes that thing look so good. It just proves that all the beauty is hers, and all the failure,” his pickles tipped precariously as he tilted his hand to point both index fingers at his sister, “is yours.”

“Smooth,” Jack said. “I have no idea why everyone else decided they were happy with leaving you two behind this morning.”

Ruffnut rolled her eyes again.

Rapunzel went to say that she was sorry, but she didn ’t want to make things too awkward, or make them stop having fun just to reassure her.

But she didn ’t get the chance to think of something else to say because she was interrupted by the sound of hunting horns — the party was returning.

With a dexterity of jaw that Rapunzel wouldn ’t have believed if she hadn’t witnessed it, both twins shoved their entire bread slices, heaped pickles and all, into their mouths, and sprinted off towards the doors, shouting unintelligibly at each other.

“Give you a ride?” Jack asked.

“What?”

Jack was holding his hand out.  “A ride,” he repeated.

Rapunzel took it, and Jack wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, bracing her upright against his body and then  … he did something with his feet that Rapunzel didn’t quite catch and her own feet went out from under her, whisking them both down the corridor as lightly as if they were made of the air itself, much faster than if they’d been walking.

Rapunzel gasped, but realised that she wasn ’t exactly scared — the wind was rushing past, and she thought she should be terrified — there were plenty of corners in between them ad the castle doors, after all — but somehow she seemed perfectly secure. Her feet weren’t even trailing behind her, like they might if she were falling off something — she was perfectly upright as if she and Jack were walking normally down the corridor.

Despite taking long enough that the twins had disappeared by the time they started, Rapunzel and Jack alighted on the floor only just after them.

“Won’t someone have noticed that?” Rapunzel asked Jack.

“It’s fine,” Jack said. “I made sure nobody was paying attention.”

Fergus and Stoick entered first, Stoick clapping Fergus on the shoulder just inside the door. 

“I’m off for the unpacking. Good hunt today!”

Fergus returned the friendly pat, and scanned the room. Spotting Rapunzel and Jack, his face brightened, and he walked over to them both. Without preamble, he said,  “You should have been there to see it! We left the horses at … oh!” He smiled at Rapunzel. “Your hair. Looks nice!”

She smiled back at him, expecting him to ask about the change in colour, but it seemed that he was perfectly happy only giving her the compliment before returning to telling the story.

“So there we were, split into groups and sneaking through the woods …”

“Save it for the dinner table, Dad,” Merida told her father, elbowing him and despite their size, nearly knocking him out of the way. 

“Oh, we don’t mind,” Rapunzel said quickly.

“You’ll hear it another seven times before the evening’s out,” Merida said. “I’m only saving you from the first one.”

“He’s already told it to me three times,” Snotlout said. “And I was _there_.” He waved his arms in exasperation. “Oh. Your hair.” He looked almost aghast for a moment, then seemed to recover himself and said. “Looking good. Stylish. Reinventive.”

“That’s not a word,” Ruffnut told him.

“I needed to invent a new word,” Snotlout said. “To express my … uh … the _reinventiveness_.”

“You do that this afternoon, Punzie?” Merida asked.

Rapunzel found her hand straying to her opposite arm.  “Yeah …” she said quietly.

Merida studied her face.  “Have ye been …” 

“Beehive. Terrible accident,” Jack interrupted.

Merida gave him a withering look for a moment, but then seemed to take the hint. 

Snotlout looked between Merida, Jack and Rapunzel but then seemed to decide that whatever had passed between them was too much for him to understand, and he shrugged.

“I like it,” Merida said, putting her hands on her hips. “Nice colour, too.”

“It was,” Tuffnut said, spreading his hands out. “The coolest thing.”

“It was … pretty cool,” Rapunzel admitted, with a little smile.

“See?” Tuffnut said.

“For once, I agree with him,” Ruffnut said. “It was definitely the coolest.”

“I still gotta unsaddle Angus,” Merida said.

“I was just coming inside to get you for that,” Astrid said from behind her. “Oh, hi, Rapunzel. Nice haircut.”

“Tell us about the amazing hair in the stables,” Merida said, and started back towards the door, pulling Rapunzel with her. Jack and the Berkians followed in a crowd after. 

“Sure you’re alright?” Merida whispered to Rapunzel as the others continued a conversation behind them.

“I’m fine now,” Rapunzel said. “Jack helped.”

“Good,” Merida said. She looked up at Rapunzel’s hair again. “It really does suit you.”

“Thanks,” Rapunzel said quietly, wishing that she’d done it before Berk arrived at the Castle, so maybe she would have had slightly fewer people commenting on it. Now it was done, she sort of wanted to forget that it had happened. She ran a hand up through her hair again, still not used to the feeling of short hair through her fingers. “Still … getting used to it.”

“Aye, I imagine it’ll take a while,” Merida said. “You going to show …?”

“Maybe later,” Rapunzel said. “Sorta had enough … comments.”

“Sure,” Merida said. “He’ll still be there tomorrow.”

Rapunzel glanced over her shoulder, trying to pretend like she was just interested in the conversation the others were having, but really, she wanted to see if anyone had noticed their conversation.

For a moment, she thought nobody had, but then she noticed Astrid glancing at them, and wondered if that was a calculating expression, or whether she was imagining things.


	81. Good Advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that old saying about the first sign of madness being talking to pets or objects and expecting them to answer back?

Hiccup was now certain that he ’d run out of things he could do inside the hut before he’d run out of days that he’d need to spend inside it. And it was only the third day since Berk had arrived at the Castle. Toothless had taken to sitting beside the door, eyeing him with an expression that Hiccup knew all too well. He let Toothless go out whenever he wanted, to go hunting in the forest and do whatever else he needed to do, but he’d given up trying to explain to the big beast that he was not going outside for any reason short of a catastrophic fire, and good luck with one of those because Hiccup barely had enough firewood for a single meal at the moment, and certainly not enough to set a fire too big to put out in weather this damp.

“So even if you had thumbs, you’d be out of luck,” Hiccup told the big, scaly cat.

Toothless seemed extremely unimpressed with this reasoning, but didn ’t contradict him.

Hiccup rubbed his face. He was glad nobody else could see him now. In any other circumstances, he would have told  _ himself _ that he was staying inside far more than was good for him, but he ’d have to bear it for a little longer. Just a little longer … 

There was a knock at the door, and Toothless opened an eye, giving Hiccup an expectant look. 

He very nearly didn ’t open the door. He very nearly just sat at the table, trying to pretend he was a statue and wait til whoever it was went away.

He very nearly went to hide  _ under _ the table, if he was perfectly honest. 

But Toothless was looking at him, and he managed to convince himself that if it really was someone  — Astrid, probably — who had figured him out, they ’d just come and look in the window and then he’d be doomed  _ and _ embarrassed.

It was probably Rapunzel. Rapunzel always knocked. Rapunzel was polite and nervous like that. So, heart in his mouth, he opened the door.

It was Aster.

“Oh,” Hiccup said, trying not to look like he was looking over Aster’s shoulder to see if anyone was watching them. Had Jack said something about Aster being at the castle? He couldn’t recall. But maybe he had.

Aster raised an eyebrow. Apparently Hiccup was not as subtle as he ’d hoped to be.

“Come in,” Hiccup said, and gestured.

Aster stepped into the hut and closed the door behind them.  “No Jack?” he asked.

“Ah …” Hiccup said. “He’s gone to help out at the Castle. Merida’s brothers. Seems like they’re a bit of a handful for most people.”

“Sound like peas in a pod with Frost, then,” Aster said, sitting down at the table.

Hiccup chuckled.  “Yeah.” He sat down opposite Aster, and moved his notebook and pencil out of Aster’s way. Then he got up again, and realised he should probably make them some tea or something.

“I thought you looked crook the first time I saw you,” Aster said. “Didn’t know you could look worse.”

Hiccup paused halfway through bending down to get water from the bucket by the bench, but only briefly.

“Well,” he said. “Don’t know if you noticed, but it’s not been a particularly good week. For anyone.”

“I’m sure,” Aster said. “Jack says you’re avoiding the castle.”

“Yes,” Hiccup said, aware that he was getting a little short. “It seems to be the favourite topic of conversation while I’m around.”

“Well, people like to talk about what their friends are doing at the moment, and hiding out is about the only thing you’re giving them to work with, if I’m reading things right.” Aster said.

Hiccup wished the water in the pot would boil just a little faster so he had something to do with his hands again.  “Not true,” he said. “I am starting … a truly wonderful spoon collection.”

Toothless made a growling noise in his throat.

“Toothless has some sense,” Aster said.

“He’s generally got more than me, yes. I think I’ve said that before.”

Aster sighed.  “Knew it. If you put up with Frost, you’re at least as hard-headed as he is.”

Cups. Hiccup went to the cupboard to get cups. Tea went in cups.

Aster sighed.  “I’ll drop it,” he said, finally. “I know you’re touchy.”

Part of Hiccup resented  ‘touchy’. Part of him knew it was probably about the mildest thing he deserved.

He ran a hand through his hair and closed the door.

“So, how about you tell me about the spoons instead?” Aster suggested.

“They’re just spoons,” Hiccup muttered. He sat down at the table again. “What about you? Jack said you’d left.”

Aster shrugged.  “Well. He said everyone was coming to the Castle, and I guess I’m always going to be a meddler.”

“I seem to know a lot of those,” Hiccup said, but it was sarcasm on reflex, no true malice in this, only nerves.

“Seems like the only people who’d stick around sometimes,” Aster said, with a grin. Hiccup thought for a moment that he’d really offended Aster, but the tone and the expression took all the sting out of the jab.

“Yeah, that’s about the shape of it,” Hiccup said.

“Besides, Frost and I mostly just worked together, but someone’s gotta be responsible for the kid.”

Hiccup snorted.  “Seems Jack attracts meddlers, too.”

“I did always think you two were meant for each other.”

There was silence for a moment as Hiccup tried to think of something to say, while he finally poured water over the leaves in the teapot.

Then there was a knock at the door.

Aster went to stand up, but Hiccup beat him to it. Part of him was still screaming at the thought that it might be Stoick  — or Astrid — at the door, but part of him was also, he thought, starting to just  … get used to the idea that at any moment one of them could turn up and his entire life would come crumbling down.

But it really was Rapunzel this time. And her braid was gone. What was left had changed from blonde to light brown.

“Oh,” he said. “Hi. Come in.”

She looked terrified as his eyes had flicked to her hair, and Pascal was giving him a death glare from her shoulder, so he decided to skirt around that topic for now.

“Um. Aster, this is Rapunzel, and Pascal. Rapunzel, Aster. He’s … another friend of Jack’s.” He went to the cupboard for another mug — the last one he had at the moment — and poured tea for three.

“Ah,” Aster said. “He mentioned you a few times. You’re the one from the tower, right?”

“Oh,” Rapunzel said. “Yes, he mentioned you, too. He said that you two worked together sometimes.”

“That about covers it. Glad to see you down. Sounded like Frost was a bit worried.”

“Yeah,” Rapunzel said quietly. 

“So, uh,” Hiccup said. “You cut your hair?”

Rapunzel shrugged, and sat down at the third chair at the table. Hiccup set out three mugs on the table and poured them tea.

“Yeah,” she said, after a moment. “Jack helped. And, uh, the twins. Ruffnut and Tuffnut.”

Hiccup had to take a moment to process that mental image.  “Who … held the scissors?” he asked, not sure which of those options he most wanted it to be.

“Ruffnut,” Rapunzel said. “She said she cuts her cousins’ hair all the time.”

“Oh. Of course.” That was right. She used to do that back when Hiccup had lived with the village, too. How had he forgotten that?

“I think it turned out alright,” Rapunzel said, running her hand through the hair at the back of her head.

“It’s a good look,” Aster said, picking up his mug and blowing on it. “Though I didn’t see your hair before.”

Rapunzel shrugged.  “I think it … doesn’t look too bad,” she said.

Hiccup tapped the side of his mug, and he knew Aster was eyeing him off. Aster probably didn ’t have a lot of context, and Hiccup didn’t know the whole of it either, but he could tell that it was something that Gothel probably wouldn’t have approved of. Pascal was watching him, too. He decided he’d ask for more details later. She probably didn’t want to talk about it with a stranger in the room.

He remembered their conversation in the hut the other day and all of a sudden, started to feel left behind.

“So you met Hiccup before the Castle?” Rapunzel asked, when Hiccup didn’t comment on the haircut.

“Only a couple of times,” Aster said. “Nearly kicked him out of my house the first time Jack brought him over.”

“What made you let him stay?”

“Gardening advice.”

Rapunzel half-giggled.  “Really?”

“Saved me a lot of time and trouble, turns out,” Aster said. “Got so nervous he shouted at me about beetroot instead of saying hello.”

Rapunzel really did giggle this time, and Hiccup snapped his attention back to the conversation.  “Jack didn’t exactly tell me who we were visiting before we got there,” he said.

“I don’t doubt that,” Aster said. “Probably thought it’d be a fun surprise.”

“He likes surprises a lot more than me.”

“You’re dating him,” Aster pointed out. “That was your choice.”

“It lets you make fun of us,” Hiccup said. “So you’re happy, at least.”

“I think it was a good choice,” Rapunzel said quickly, as though smoothing over an argument.

“It’s fine —” Hiccup started, but Aster cut him off.

“No dramas,” he assured Rapunzel. “It’s one hell of a match and I’m happy for both of them. The three of us just have an odd way of making friends. I’m a grumpy old man, and those two get twitchy when you have real emotions around them.” He waved his tea at Hiccup. “If it’s not sarcasm, they don’t really hear it.”

“I have selective hearing,” Hiccup said, noticing the look that passed between Toothless and Pascal. “If it’s not a joke at my expense, or confirming things I already believe, it’s not real.”

Rapunzel rolled her eyes at him, but her shoulders went down a little, and she seemed a little soothed.

Hiccup glanced sidelong at her hair again, and felt suddenly like he didn ’t really want his tea after all. He passed the mug from hand to hand instead.

He didn ’t see whether Aster had spotted his expression, or the glance at Rapunzel, but he did noticed that Aster immediately picked up the conversation where they’d left off talking about the beets.

Hiccup pretended to be listening, and not to notice the smug looks Toothless was giving him. He really wanted to ask Rapunzel more about her hair, but not while Aster was around.

And, of course, Aster  — and Jack, and Toothless, and Merida  … — was right. He glanced over at the wood pile. After dark, then, he’d go out near the castle to get some wood. He wouldn’t be spotted then. And at least he’d get out of the hut for a while.


	82. A Fairy Interlude II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you thought I was just going to let you have the resolution to all the drama.

Though his mound was still full of fairies after the storm, Nicholas St. North stood alone outside his castle, waiting for the guest.

It was tradition.

The West Wind arrived alone, though behind her, there were many of her followers, out of sight but not out of reach.

After all, was that not what North had at his mound? And that, too, was tradition.

The West Wind left her horses and they waited behind her too, snorting like thunder and shimmering like a fog on a chill morning. The horses alone were larger than North, their rider even more so. She wore herself as her armour, and billowed behind herself like the trails of cirrus cloud, and preceded herself like a towering storm front. Her eyes were lightning-white and sparks danced across her skin as she moved.

She shrank as she approached, matching North ’s height, and her body seemed to contain itself more, her armour taking on the more corporeal tinge of bronze and the mist around her legs coalescing into dark charcoal fabric. Her eyes remained that commanding white, though, and her hair seemed to hover somewhere between fog and body, lifting away from her neck with every little ripple of the air. 

The two fairy leaders bowed deep. She straightened a second or so before him.

“Nicholas St. North,” she greeted him.

“West Wind.”

“I thought that I might find your master here.”

“I am pained to remind you,” North said, stiff with formality, “My master is still in exile.”

“He has before sent a shadow of himself,” the West Wind said. “Does he not deign to exert himself now? I would have thought him … well rested.”

North was accustomed to this sort of banter, but he did not join in. In usual gatherings, he held so much power that it was hardly worth playing the game. Now, he held so little in comparison to the being before him that he could not risk giving offense.

“If I presumed to know his reasons,” North pointed out, trying to keep his tone as polite as possible, “I would be master, and he would be servant.”

“My insult,” she assured him, holding up a hand to forestall his words, “Was not made by you.” She looked up at the sky and seemed to consider for a time, as if communicating by some means beyond North, or perhaps just intending to make her gaze known across the long distance of the sky.

“In these woods,” North said, after as long a moment as he considered polite, “I speak for Man in Moon. This was his charge.”

“Hm,” the West Wind said. “Unfortunately, I find this not to your advantage.”

“It is way of things.”

“Then, if you are determined,” the West Wind said. “I am here to present my challenge to you, who speaks on behalf of your master, the Man in the Moon.”

“I hear your challenge,” North said. “State it.”

The West Wind, though it could be difficult to tell the expression on her face when there was no pupil or iris in her fog-white eyes, seemed to give him a moment of pitying consideration before she answered,  “Then, my challenge to your master: This wood has ever been a grounds of battle, and the truce grows tiresome. I have come to settle the matter of its ownership. If he will not renegotiate, I will have the woods for myself. It will happen before the Man in the Moon has the time to turn his full face upon this place he loves so dearly.”

North nodded solemnly. He could neither fight this challenge nor refuse it, though they both knew that without his master ’s return, he had little chance against the West Wind and her forces.

“Your challenge is heard,” he said again, glancing up at the Man in the Moon, and for the first time in a very long time, wondering if he truly did hear it. “And it will be met.”


	83. A Neutral Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, the only way I ever advance the plot: Having it interrupt other things.

Jack, having finished whatever he was doing with the triplets at the castle, dropped by not long after Aster and Rapunzel.

Jack interrupted Hiccup in the middle of cleaning the mugs cleaning with a long kiss, and Hiccup rested his arms on Jack ’s shoulders, trying not to put his wet hands all over Jack’s clothes. Jack was gripping Hiccup’s sides with his hands, not quite a real hug, but holding tight anyway. Hiccup was starting to get used to that — not quite being wrapped up or held, Jack making it very clear that he didn’t want to let go.

“You’re dripping down my back,” Jack said after a minute.

“You didn’t care a second ago.”

“You were still kissing me a second ago.”

So Hiccup kissed him again. 

But eventually, he did have to finish cleaning the mugs. While he rinsed the suds off them, Jack jumped up and sat on the bench next to him.

“Hey,” Hiccup said, still looking into the sink. “You don’t usually get noticed unless you want to, right?”

“Sure,” Jack said. “With some exceptions.”

“So … if I were to leave the hut, could you make sure that nobody spotted us?”

“Absolutely,” Jack said, immediately and without hesitation.

Hiccup turned to him.  “Jack, are you just saying that because you want me to leave the hut? Or can you actually do that?”

“I really, really, really want you to leave the hut,” Jack said. “But it’s just the humans you want cover from, right?”

“Pitch knows I’m here,” Hiccup said. “No point in hiding it from the fairies.”

“Then we’re fine,” Jack said, with confidence. “Humans are easy.”

“In that case,” Hiccup said. “We need firewood. I need firewood. I mean.”

Jack grinned. Hiccup flushed, not sure how to explain that he ’d temporarily forgot that Jack lived at the castle, not at the hut.

Hiccup finally put the mugs on the draining table and sighed.  “We should head out,” he said, pushing his fringe back with one hand as he leaned the other on the desk. “If it doesn’t make a difference to whether we’ll be spotted, best to go now, before it’s dark.”

“On it,” Jack said, walking to the door. Hiccup was about to follow him, but Jack stopped just before the door. He couldn’t see Jack’s face, but he could sense the concentration. And … did the air get chilly all of a sudden?

Well, it wasn ’t the strangest thing he’d seen in recent weeks. Toothless was suddenly at his side, and he reached down to pat the big, scaly head, and got his wood basket and axe from by the hearth.

“Let’s go,” Jack said, and looked back so he could gesture with his head for Hiccup to follow him out of the hut.

As they walked towards the gates  — not so long a distance, but it felt like hours — Hiccup couldn ’t help his gaze roaming around the grounds, and especially up at the Castle. He had expected there to be something different about the way they travelled, some sort of fuzziness that indicated that they, to the rest of the world, might be fuzzy themselves. There were a few people around, going about their business and sparing them no glances, but was that just because they were preoccupied? Or was that Jack’s doing?

“Are you certain it’s working?” Hiccup hissed to Jack.

“Sure,” Jack said at his normal volume. “Don’t whisper, you’ll draw attention.”

“What?” Hiccup whispered, torn between trusting Jack (and expressing the panic that was starting to well up in his chest) and his natural inclination to keep his voice as low as possible because they were supposed to be _sneaking_ , for Thor’s sake! “You said …” he tried at normal volume, but he just couldn’t make himself do it for more than a couple of words. He tried again, dropping his voice to a low murmur rather than a whisper, though with no less vehemence. “You _said_ you could keep people from noticing us.”

Jack turned on his heel so that he was walking backwards, facing Hiccup, and caught Hiccup ’s hand in his own, twining their fingers. “I did,” he said. “And I can. Am, in fact. But it’s complicated. I’m not making us  _ invisible _ . That ’s fairy stuff, and I’m no fairy. I’m just letting us pass by unnoticed.” He gave Hiccup’s hand a squeeze. “But it won’t work if you draw attention to yourself doing suspicious things, like whispering like you’re trying to be sneaky, or looking around like you expect to be caught.”

Hiccup cast another glance around the grounds, and up again to the Castle. There were definitely people in one or two of the windows, but from here it was impossible to tell who they were, let alone if they were looking out for Hiccup and Jack, or if they ’d spotted them. Toothless butted the back of Hiccup’s legs with his big head, and he put his free hand on the big cat’s head.

“What if … someone’s looking for us. You know. Specifically?” he asked.

Jack shrugged, tugging on Hiccup ’s hand. “I don’t usually get found unless I want to be found,” he said.

“That’s … less of an answer than I was hoping you’d give.”

“We’re going to be fine,” Jack said, squeezing Hiccup’s hand again, then reaching forward so he could wrap both his hands around Hiccup’s. “I’m not going to let you get spotted, alright?”

Hiccup allowed himself one sarcastic thought: that at least if they were spotted the decision of whether  — and also how, come to think of it — to reveal to Berk that he was alive was made for him. Then he resolved to trust Jack, squeezed Jack ’s hand back, and tried to walk as nonchalantly as he could until they were in the woods.

Once they were under the cover of the trees, Hiccup finally relaxed. He resumed his usual walking place with Toothless at his side, his hand resting on Toothless ’s head, though now with the addition of Jack walking beside him, holding his hand. It wasn’t the most convenient thing as the trees got a little thicker, but they didn’t let go.

Finally, Hiccup found a likely piece of deadfall, dropped the basket to the ground and got to work.

“Pity it’s getting colder,” Jack said, as he leaned against a tree, giving Toothless a pat while Hiccup worked.

“Otherwise I might take my shirt off?” Hiccup asked, between swings.

“I am a simple man,” Jack told him, “Of simple pleasures.”

Hiccup snorted, and continued working on the dead tree. As he broke a piece off and threw it into the bag, he tried to act as casual as possible, and said,  “I think I’m going to tell my father and … the rest of Berk. That I’m alive.”

Jack hesitated, then Hiccup could hear the forced cheer in his voice as he said,  “So, you made the decision, then?”

“I did,” Hiccup said.

“What changed your mind?”

“It sounds stupid,” Hiccup said.

“So do I, most of the time.”

“Rapunzel cut her hair.” He had been right — it sounded very stupid when he put it like that. 

“Ah,” Jack said, and although Hiccup still felt foolish, he sounded like he really understood. “So … how are you going to do it?”

Hiccup shrugged.  “I don’t …”

Then Toothless started to growl, and Jack and the big cat looked up and at the same part of the woods at the same time. Hiccup took a step back from the tree, keeping his axe in his hand, so that he was standing next to the other two.

He was expecting to see Pitch step out from a shadow, but whoever it was didn ’t bother to disguise their approach. A white mist gathered between the trees, and then a figure appeared, though it wasn’t quite clear if she had appeared from behind the mist, or whether she  _ was _ the mist giving itself shape.

She was tall, and she wore a bronze breastplate and some sort of shift underneath it that blended into the mist around her legs. She seemed to be made of the mist  — her skin was the dark grey of the clouds of an overcast sky, and her eyes where white as a lightning bolt, and seemed to glow. She might have had hair as wispy and white as the mist, or she could have been bald, with the mist disturbed by her passage seeming to cling to her head and trail behind her as she moved.

Toothless stopped growling.

Hiccup put his hand on the Grimalkin ’s shoulders, feeling the raised hackles. His tufted ears were still back, his muscles taut and his shoulders raised. He was still very clearly on his guard. But his eyes had turned wary, his teeth no longer bared.

Hiccup realised with a chill that Toothless was actually scared.

Hiccup shared a glance with Jack, who returned it. Jack had no obvious fear in his face, but also no understanding or reassurance. Jack clearly didn ’t know who this was.

Hiccup slowly stood up a little straighter, relaxing out of the tense and ready stance that he ’d taken as Toothless had started to growl, and lowering the axe so that it was still in easy reach, but was no longer an obvious or immediate threat. Jack gave him a sidelong, confused glance, and didn’t change his own defensive stance.

“Good afternoon,” the woman said, and her voice was oddly deep, even for her height. Hiccup was starting to get the sneaking suspicion he knew who she was. “I am the West Wind.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Hiccup said finally. He spent a half a second contemplating whether he should be polite and give his name. Avoiding offense was probably more prudent than when he was talking with Pitch. But giving his name was also clearly a bad idea. He decided to go for still polite, but also safe. “I have … heard many things about you, but not nearly enough.”

To his surprise, the West Wind actually smiled at that.  “I see,” she said. “I have heard a little of you, but not nearly enough.” She pointed to Toothless. “This is your creature?”

“He’s …” Hiccup stopped himself from automatically saying that Toothless was ‘not his Grimalkin’, wondering suddenly if that might somehow, in this case, make it really true. “So I’m told,” he said. “He’s my Grimalkin.”

“Yes,” the West Wind says. “My General says that you are rather adamant on that fact.”

“I think Pitch misunderstood,” Hiccup said. “Too — the Grimalkin is my Grimalkin, though I don’t usually use that phrase myself. The part that I am adamant on is that I will not be Pitch’s charge.”

“Good,” the West Wind said, and Hiccup had to stop for a moment.

“G … good?”

“Yes. Good.” The West Wind turned to Jack. “And what of you, Changeling?”

“Pitch can go hang, for all I care,” Jack said.

“And your creator?”

“Even more so.”

The West Wind ’s brow furrowed, but with the slight glow of her eyes obscuring some of the lines of her face, it was impossible to tell whether the expression was annoyed, amused or merely thoughtful.

“Hm,” was all she said on the matter.

“May I ask why you’re here?” Hiccup asked. “It seems like you’ve come pretty specifically to talk to us.”

“I sought information,” the West Wind said.

“Uh … huh?” Hiccup said, hoping that she might explain further. “From us?”

“No.” The West Wind stepped forward, and Hiccup felt Toothless twitch and pull away under his hands, though he didn’t step back.

She knelt in front of them, and looked up at Hiccup.  “I wish to talk with your Grimalkin,” she said.

“Are you going to hurt him?” Hiccup asked.

“No harm will come to him. On my love of the Sun and upon my own power, I swear that I will do nothing to him but exchange information. He will not be harmed.”

Hiccup looked at Toothless, who returned his stare with a look Hiccup had never seen before. Usually Toothless had very strong opinions about things, but this time  … he looked like he was resigning himself to whatever Hiccup decided.

“I …” That was a strong promise, from a fairy. “I want your word that your plans mean no danger for the humans in and near the woods,” he said.

The ghost of a smile crossed her face.  “I begin to understand you a little, I think,” she said. “I can promise nothing during the battle, should the Man in the Moon and his General choose that there be one. Those who are close may be caught, and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. But I swear upon the same terms that my plans will target no humans, cause them no deliberate harm, and result in no change for their ability to enter the woods safely, save for the duration of any battle that occurs.”

Hiccup glanced at Jack, who seemed even more bewildered than before. Then he gestured to Toothless.  “I … well, if it’s alright with him, and you keep your promise, then it’s alright with me, too. I trust you to keep your word.”

She nodded thanks, and reached out one hand. Toothless made a little nervous noise in his throat, but with a final glance up at Hiccup, put his chin in her hand, and let her look into his eyes.

After a few moments of silence, she rubbed the big cat ’s nose affectionately, and stood up. “My thanks,” she said. “And you should know that you did a great service for this creature.”

“It wasn’t … deliberate,” Hiccup said.

“Good deeds are far too rarely deliberate,” the West Wind said. “But nevertheless, the service was real.” She looked at Jack. “Ah, changeling, you look curious.”

“I’m curious about a lot of things,” Jack said.

“You were hoping I would reveal a little of what happened to this Grimalkin.”

“Uh,” Jack said, flushing a little.

She looked at Hiccup.  “It eats at the changeling, you know,” she said.

“I …” Hiccup looked away. He knew it did, but he hadn’t yet found the right time, or the nerve, to discuss it. Besides … “I don’t remember it that well,” he said. 

“It’s not eating at me,” Jack said quickly. “Hiccup, you don’t have to listen to her.”

“Do not contradict me,” the West Wind said, voice surprisingly harsh. “You are a changeling. Your feelings are written as clear as a forecast in the clouds.” Her face softened, taking some of the sting out of the final sentence. “And I despise lies.”

“Oh, you’re gonna _hate_ me, then,” Hiccup muttered, under his breath.

She gave him a curious look, then seemed to decide something. 

“Then, in return for your co-operation, and the service you did for the Grimalkin — you may be his master, but I am the progenitor of his kind, and thus I owe a little responsibility — I shall give you both a gift,” she said. “A gift of honesty. May it clear your skies.”

And then there was a white flash, like lightning.


	84. Jack's Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who's been wondering about Jack's past: You're welcome.

It starts with once upon a time, because fairies are involved, and fairies like that kind of thing.

Once upon a time, there was a couple in a village. However, the village had fallen on hard times and them more so than anyone. Not knowing what else they could do, they called on the fairies and asked for help.

A fairy did come to them, a beautiful woman with dark hair and a red dress, and they explained the problem – that they had no money and no food and would surely die without them. They asked what the fairies would want in return.

She replied that they would gladly help the couple – in exchange, in the traditional way, for their first-born child.

“However,” the fairy said. “If you do not honour our deal within ten years, never again will fire light in your hearth, or any hearth at which you sit.”

The couple accepted the deal gladly. Better to give up a child than to die. So they parted ways and in the morning, the harvest that had failed was suddenly clear of rot and decay, and the village rejoiced and fed, and sold what they didn ’t eat, and there was money and prosperity again.

Near a year later, the couple had the child that the fairies had promised to take. One night when the child was but a week old, they woke in the night to hear the fairy leave, but to their surprise they found that there was still a child in the cot, contentedly sucking on its thumb and watching them with round, blue eyes.

“Did they not desire the child?” the woman asked.

But the man shook his head.  “No, love – this must be a changeling child, and no child of ours. We must cast it into the hearth. If we do, they will be forced to return our own child.”

“Won’t that break our bargain?”

“We told the fairy only that she could take the child, not that she could keep it.”

The woman was still not sure, but her husband hushed her fears, saying that he had heard it said again and again that a changeling child could be returned like that. And besides, he saw that she could barely stand to look at the child that was not their own, so how would she bring herself to care for it?

Finally, his wife agreed, and she herself picked up the child and cast it into the fire.

As soon as the child touched the flames, the hearth suddenly turned cold and empty.

Realising what they had done, the man and the woman rushed outside after the retreating fairies, but they were long gone. Inside, the changeling child watched them from the cold hearth, eyes round and blue, not crying nor showing any signs of distress or discomfort. The woman could not touch it, so the man took it from the hearth. 

No matter what the woman did, she could not rekindle the fire.

“We must get rid of it,” the woman said, as the guilt overtook her. “I will not have it in my house any longer.”

The man nodded.  “What shall we do with it?”

“We shall throw it in the lake,” the woman said. “We cannot burn it in the fire, but perhaps if we drown it, they will be forced to return our child, at least.”

So they took the changeling to the frozen lake, and cut a hole in the ice so they could drop it into the frozen lake.

That winter, nobody would take that couple into their houses, for their hearths immediately went cold as the couple entered the door. The village cooked food for them, but by the time they ate it, it had always gone cold.

One morning in the middle of winter, they were found huddled together, bundled in all their blankets but nevertheless cold and dead without a fire to warm the house. They were buried and mourned, and their story told as a warning to others who might think to try and deal with the fairies, or to go back on their word.

Spring came and the lake melted, and from the lake, before dawn when nobody was around, a white-cloaked figure emerged, several years older than the child had been, clothed in white and brown, with white hair, pale skin, and huge, round, blue eyes. He stretched, laughed once like silver bells, and then disappeared into the woods.


	85. Hiccup's Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everyone who was making guesses about what happened to Hiccup: you're also welcome.

“Hiccup, you’ll be Chief one day …” Stoick said, but by that point, Hiccup had already stopped listening to him.

“Or maybe I won’t,” he interrupted. “Then you can make Astrid the chief and everyone will be happier!”

Stoick rubbed his eyes.  “Hiccup, how many accidents will it take before you learn to take some responsibility? Does someone have to die? Is that it?”

Hiccup ’s throat closed up, and he found he couldn’t force any words past the lump. Anyone else in Berk would have said that was nearly unheard of, but he found it happening more and more often these days.

He took his father ’s leatherwork and, without breaking eye contact, tipped the needles all over the table and the floor, and then walked out.

The woods. He needed the woods very badly right now.

“Hiccup!” Gobber called, but he didn’t respond, barrelling right past him and towards the trees.

***

_ The forest was familiar, but then, it was familiar to the Thing That Was Chasing as well. The sun had set and risen twice, and the chase had never stopped, not to eat, not to rest. _

_ Even the low light on autumn leaves were too red. They were a reminder of the Thing That Was Chasing _ _ ’s red eyes. _

_ With a thought, the trees grew large, the roots lifting and becoming great obstacles, rather than annoyances to be watched. The smaller form was slower, but hiding might be the only choice left. _

***

Hiccup stumbled through the woods, following a familiar route, eyes full of tears. Their fights were far worse recently. He hated that he was crying over it. One would think near sixteen years of fighting and frustration might have left his skin thicker than when it started, but it seemed he couldn ’t even ask for that.

He smacked a tree branch aside, listening to it bounce back with an unsatisfying swish. Fuming, he made one turn after another, pausing occasionally to scrub his eyes until they burned, and he couldn ’t tell if he was crying because of his father or whether his eyes were just stinging from the rough fabric of his tunic, and he preferred it that way.

He knew exactly where he wanted to go. He just had to turn at the next  …

Marker  …

Oh.

He looked around, behind himself, then to the left and right. The woods were thicker than he ’d expected. He didn’t recognise the trees here.

Worst of all, he wasn ’t standing on his path.

He was lost.

***

Night was drawing in. Gobber knocked on his Chief ’s door.

“Another argument?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

Not casual enough. Stoick rubbed his eyes and groaned.

“I see. Well, the boy’s gone off to the woods again, of course. And it’s getting dark. Just wondering if, you know.” He waved his hook vaguely. “If you wanted to go and get him back.”

“He’ll be back on his own,” Stoick said. “Just give him another hour.”

“Another hour,” Gobber confirmed. “If you think so.”

“I know him,” Stoick said. “I don’t understand him, but I know him. He knows those woods, and he’ll be back.”

“I’ll leave it to you, then,” Gobber said. “Call me when – if. If you need me.”

***

Hiccup stopped again to sit down, closed his eyes and just breathed. He ’d stopped crying a long time ago. Being lost in the woods — the woods full of fairies, no less — had a way of making his family problems fade into the background. It was almost funny, in a twisted sort of way, that his life being in danger was somehow a relief.

Hiccup knew plants. He ’d been in the woods before, and it wasn’t like people from Berk never went foraging. But he’d already lost the marker — which everyone was taught never to do — so he wasn’t about to double down by not being cautious about what he found, too.

There had been berries. And he ’d found various leaves and weeds that he was sure of. But it was still only very early spring, and he was off the path. Just because there  _ was _ food in the woods didn ’t mean he was guaranteed to stumble across it.

Then there was the problem of water  …

Of course, he ’d come out unprepared. He had stashes of things — his own little campsite, in fact. But he wasn’t on the path, and he didn’t know where any of that was. So he was out in a damp forest with no clue where he was, no clue which way was back to Berk, and his chances of making a fire were slim without flint or an axe. He wasn’t likely to die of the cold at this time of year, but that didn’t mean it was a good idea to sleep out in it for too long.

The other thing children were told was to stop where it was safe and wait for help to come for them. But Hiccup wasn ’t really under any illusions there. Who knew how far he’d walked before realising he was lost. His father would probably send out a search party … but how hard were they really going to look for him?

So even though he knew he was starting to lose the light, he continued to walk for just a little longer. He had a better chance of surviving if he could just find the edge of the forest than staying out in the damp and cold overnight without fire or shelter. He just had to figure out which way was West …

***

_ There was no hiding. _

_ It had been days. _

_ Tired. So tired.  _

_ But the red eyes did not get tired. They were getting closer. _

_ So there was no stopping, either. _

***

“What do you mean you haven’t found anything?” Stoick bellowed. “You’ve had all gods-damned day!”

Astrid winced. Stoick immediately regretted it, and tried to calm down. Astrid, Gobber, everyone – they were doing their best for his son, though Odin knew some of them had every right not to.

“It’s too late to continue,” Gobber said, putting his hand on Stoick’s shoulder. “Stoick …”

“We start again in the morning,” Stoick said firmly. “Everyone who can spare the time.”

He strode back to his hut. He didn ’t want to hear another word. They would start the search again at dawn, and that was final.

***

Hiccup was starting to feel the shake in his legs. He ’d managed to find enough shelter to spend the night, but it was cold, and he still hadn’t found nearly enough food to get him through a full day of walking. Another patch of berries, full of fruit but only a very few ripe enough for Hiccup to be willing to risk them. A couple of mushrooms on and under trees that he could be sure of. But the chill of waking up with a fine coat of morning dew hadn’t ever quite gone away despite the walking and the sun.

He was starting to trip over roots as he walked. He ’d noticed, though he’d tried to pretend that he hadn’t. 

He ’d also started crying again. That was the bigger problem now: water. There were plenty of water sources in the woods, but he couldn’t hear any of them. If he had still been on the path, he could have found at least three sources easily.

But then, if he had still been on the path, he wouldn ’t be in this mess in the first place.

The panic was starting to set in.

Until the sunset started to come through the trees and Hiccup realised that he ’d managed to stumble into a place where he could see a few patches of sky above him.

The village was to the North-West of the woods. The sun set in the West. And he could see, here, where the sky had begun to darken, and where the red-orange was strongest. He ’d be well away from Berk by now, but he didn’t need to head directly back to Berk. He just needed to be out of the trees, so he could tell where he was going.

Finally, finally, he had a bearing.

Not caring whether he was crying or not anymore, and mentally adding  ‘relief’ to the reasons he could be crying, he started to stagger towards home.

***

Stoick had argued with Gobber that afternoon, when Gobber had tried to gently suggest that he might need to prepare for the possibility that Hiccup wasn ’t coming back.

He didn ’t understand his son. They argued. They fought. But the one thing Stoick wouldn’t do was give up on him.

But after some time alone, Stoick had to admit, Gobber had a point. Berk couldn ’t afford to spend much more time looking for the boy. They were starting to get behind on shearing and lambing, and there was planting to be done …

So, Stoick would compromise. The rest of Berk could get on with doing what needed to be done. He ’d go look for Hiccup himself.

***

_ Footsteps. Small. Only two. Not beast. Didn _ _ ’t smell like fairy. _

_ Aid? _

***

Hiccup shouldn ’t have been so hasty. He’d panicked. He’d made a mistake. He shouldn’t have gone straight for the edge of the woods.

The sunset was dimming now, and still he had no idea how close he was to finding his way out of the trees. He was starting to feel the hunger more now, and the thirst parching the back of his tongue. He hadn ’t stopped to find any more food, or to look for water. He’d been so convinced that he could get out of the woods before sundown …

Nearly night. Nearly night. Just a little more. Had to be close. He was tripping on roots again, and he was starting to feel light-headed.

Something black and furry hurtled at him, running past him and turning, fur raised and ears back.

What

A cat

Why was a cat

Why cat

Then he heard the sound of the thing coming towards him. It was too dark, and he wasn ’t sure if it was just that he was exhausted and his mind was working slowly or that his vision was starting to go a little fuzzy, but he couldn’t see what kind of creature it was. Its body was shadowy, and it had red eyes.

It lunged, and suddenly he was in pain and also on the ground. The cat was on his shoulders and before his mind could register that it would probably be useless, he ’d grabbed a rock. With a shout that, even to him, sounded thin and reedy, he brought it down with both things on the thing’s head. Really, it oughtn’t to have done anything, except that he brought it down directly on the thing’s red eye.

The pain in his leg got worse, and at least one of them made a horrible screeching noise.

Everything was blurry all of a sudden. A large black shape passed Hiccup ’s eyes, but it didn’t look like the shadowy thing.

He just lay back and concentrated on breathing.

***

_ The human attacked the Thing That Was Chasing.  _

_ A chance. _

_ Another thought and the trees shrank again. Big jaws are necessary for this. _

_ New Master took its eye, and though I am tired, I will take its throat. _

_ One more task now. Others might follow it, and New Master seems as tired as I am, and not as strong, so I will take this task on myself. I will take this thing away. _

_ It will not take either of us back to its master, and when its fellows come looking for it, they will not find us either. _

***

Hiccup wasn ’t sure whether it was just that the confusion and adrenaline had faded, or because he had briefly lost consciousness and was now coming back to, but the cat was there, fur a little matted, watching him with big, green eyes.

It really was dark now. He ’d lost his way again.

“Sorry,” he muttered to the black cat. “But I’m glad you’re safe. One of us had a lucky day, right?”

But it couldn ’t be far now. If only he could make one more effort. Just one last try. He tried to stand up, but only got half way.

“Sorry,” he apologised to the cat again. He didn’t know why, but it made him feel better. He looked down. Maybe if he looked at his feet, they’d get under him bet-

Oh.

Perhaps he wasn ’t going to be getting up after all.

He looked at the cat, which was still watching him, and reached out to it with one hand.

“Hey,” he cooed. “Stay away from those big things from now on, hey? Can’t promise I can do that again.”

The cat sniffed his fingers, nudged them, and then curled up under his arm, next to his chest.

Hiccup relaxed, holding the cat close, and finally, finally let himself slip away.

***

Stoick was preparing himself to leave for the day. He ’d given Astrid instructions, and she’d look after things here while he was gone.

Then there was a knock on the door, and Gobber had been standing there.

“Going somewhere?” the blacksmith asked cheerfully, packed with his own bag, that he was holding over his shoulder with his hook.

“Going looking,” Stoick said. “No search party today, Gobber, I’m going alone. Goodness knows they’ve indulged my family enough already.”

“Yes, I know,” Gobber said. “You’re going alone. But I’m going with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Someone’s got to keep you out of trouble,” Gobber said. “And we’ll cover more ground if there’s two of us.”

Stoick looked up from packing, and walked over. He clapped Gobber on the shoulder.  “You’re a good friend, Gobber,” he said.

Gobber returned the gesture, and gripped Stoick ’s shoulder through his big coat. “Ah, I’m just hard to get rid of.”

They parted at the forest edge, with detailed descriptions of where and when they would meet, and set off into the woods.

It was midmorning, the woods lit by strong shafts of light and lunch was starting to prey on Stoick ’s mind when he saw auburn hair lying in the fallen leaves.

He was too late. 

His little boy looked for all the world like he was sleeping, if it wasn ’t for the sunken eyes and scratched face and arms, the cheeks just starting to grow gaunt. The missing leg and the sickening pool of blood on the ground. Stoick couldn’t bring himself to look over the rest of the body. They were so close to the path. His boy had been so very close to safety when he died. He ran a trembling hand over his boy’s hair and started to pull Hiccup towards him when he heard a growl.

His boy had died holding a black cat close to him, and now it was staring up at Stoick with big, baleful green eyes. It yawned, and returned to glaring at Stoick.

“I have to take him back to bury him,” Stoick said, not sure exactly why he was explaining this to the cat.

The cat made a  _ prr-eow _ sound, and nudged its head further under Hiccup ’s arm. Stoick looked at his boy, his stubborn, foolish little boy again.

Just like he was sleeping, holding a favourite toy close. It was so familiar. Tears filled Stoick ’s eyes and his vision swam until he could almost fool himself into thinking that he was looking at a young child again, missing teeth and dreaming peacefully, cuddling his stuffed toy close to his chest. Not a corpse covered in so much blood.

Stoick sat back, away from the body. He said to the cat,  “You keep him, then. Maybe he found a little bit of peace with you.”

That seemed very right. Hiccup had always found a home in the woods as much  — maybe more than — he felt at home in Berk. He must have been in pain, at the end, but at least he ’d had something to hold close.

Stoick unwrapped a charm from around his huge wrist and coiled it up on Hiccup ’s shoulder.

“A gift from me,” he said to his boy. “And from your mother. You should have it.”

It seemed a little ridiculous to leave a charm of protection with a dead body, but Stoick had no other gift to give.

He picked up his bag again and walked away. If he hurried, he might be able to find Gobber and call off the search before noon.

***

_ We have already slept too long. A human came for us this morning, but he did not take my new master away. I have protected us for now. _

_ But as the human leaves, I realise that my new master is no longer sleeping. He is dead. _

_ He cannot be dead. If he is dead, then I have to go back to my old master.  _

_ I will not go back. _

_ Instead, I will put one life of nine into a breath. A life for a life  _ _ … _

***

Hiccup woke, and was somewhat surprised to find that nothing hurt. He looked up into the huge green eyes of the thing standing next to him.

It was a black cat, very close to his face.

He felt strange. Sluggish, like waking up on a cold morning, despite the fact that the sun was shining quite brightly.

And then the cat changed. It stretched languidly and grew. Scales formed on its paws and on its face and it met his eyes again, tufted ears at odds with its slightly reptilian face. But its eyes remained that deep, calming green.

A fairy cat.

As Hiccup moved backwards instinctively, something fell onto the grass.

Hiccup picked it up, and recognised it immediately. It was the charm his father had used to wear on his wrist. A gift from his mother, before she died.

The huge cat purred deep in its throat and sat down to watch Hiccup.

Hiccup didn ’t know how to react. His fingers wouldn’t unclench around the charm, and though he desperately wanted to look at it, he found that he couldn’t tear his eyes off the cat.

He remembered being hungry, and thirsty, and the red-eyed thing. He remembered  …

Oh.

“I died,” he said to the cat.

That was it, then. He had died. His father must have found his body and left the charm with him.

Stoick had found Hiccup dead, and left him his most treasured possession.

After a long moment, he found the breath to whisper,  “I loved you, too.”

When he looked up, the fairy cat was still watching him. It was sitting back, and seemed as though it was willing to wait for him. It didn ’t seem dangerous at all.

A little more of the night before started to come back to him.

“You seem awfully attached to me,” he said, to break the silence. “Is it because I hit that thing with a rock?”

He checked down by his feet, feeling a little dizzy as he saw just how much of him was missing. The black thing was not there anymore, but the leaves were crushed, as if something heavy had been there. Hiccup didn ’t know how much of that was his own blood and how much was something else’s. Whatever the thing was, it had been of fairy, too. Who knew what had happened to the body.

“Prr-ow.”

“You’re welcome. I didn’t quite know what I was doing at the time. I don’t know if that makes a difference to you.”

“Prr-eow.”

Hiccup sighed.  “Well, close enough. Hey, I need a little help standing. Could you …?” He hadn’t really expected a response, he was only talking to calm his own nerves, but the cat moved over to him. It pushed its scaly head onto his hand and under his arm, nudging his side until he could rest his weight across its broad, furry back. It stood calmly and solidly as he used the support to stand, then looked up at him.

So  … probably fairy, then. But it seemed helpful enough.

Deep in its chest, the big cat started a rumbling purr. 

Now that he was up, Hiccup was starting to feel a little steadier, strangely, his head no longer swimming, his eyes feeling clearer. If he didn ’t look down at the remains of his leg, he might have even said he felt good.

The sun was shining brightly, and he thought he could see, with the thinner trees, that he really had been very close to the edge of the woods. So, back to Berk? 

No. He had caused more than enough trouble in the village for one lifetime. Besides, one look at his hands told him his skin was death-pale, his freckles standing out black against the skin. He looked horrific. He didn ’t need to be taken for a ghoul or something and killed again. His father already thought he was dead. Best to just … leave it at that.

Hiccup paused to scratch the cat ’s tufted ears. It closed its eyes and purred languidly.

He chuckled.  “You’re really a big softie, aren’t you?” he asked. “Bet your bark is worse than your bite. Hey, that’s an idea. I have to give you a name. How about Toothless?”

“Prr-ow.”

“I’m taking that as a yes. Nice to meet you, Toothless. Let’s go and see if we can find me a new leg.”

Cat and dead man limped away into the woods together. 


	86. Coming to Terms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I tell their stories that way because I wanted the drama? Because I decided they'd never just sit down and say things with their grown-up words? Because I had these drabbles of their backstories that I wrote at the beginning of the planning process and contrived a flimsy excuse to include them in the final product instead of being a good author and writing new content? We may never know....

Jack blinked hard as the woods swam back into focus in front of him. The West Wind was gone, and as far as he could tell, very little time had passed, though he was finding it hard to see straight, both because of whatever the West Wind had done, and, he realised, because he had tears in his eyes.

Hiccup, seemed to be having similar problems. Hiccup was leaning on Toothless, scrubbing at one of his eyes with the heel of his hand. Toothless ’s big head was against his chest, and it seemed like most of Hiccup’s weight was leaning on the Grimalkin.

Jack managed to stagger over until he was kneeling next to Toothless, too, arm over Toothless ’s back and pressing his body against Hiccup’s even if he couldn’t provide any real support. If Toothless minded the extra weight of Jack’s slightly swaying body, he didn’t make any complaint. They stayed like that for a moment, until Hiccup mumbled something.

“Didn’t catch that,” Jack said.

“Sorry,” Hiccup said. “Didn’t realise … what happened to you.”

Jack managed a shaky laugh.  “Me? What about what happened to you?”

Hiccup shook his head.  “It was noth …” he hesitated again. “Well, you saw,” he muttered, and scrubbed at his eyes again. “Sorry.”

“Hey,” Jack said, and rested his head against Hiccup’s shoulder. “Let’s just … get back to the hut.”

“I should finish getting firewood first,” Hiccup said.

“No,” Jack said, and then surprised himself by saying, “We should get back to the hut and … talk things through. Besides, do you think you could use that axe right now?”

Hiccup sighed, and said,  “Guess not.”

With Toothless ’s help, the two of them stood up, carrying the wood basket between them. Jack was a little worried about making it back to the hut — after all, he could make it so that people ignored them if they weren’t drawing attention to themselves. Walking back with a basket full of firewood was one thing. Limping back like they’d been missing for a week? That was another.

But slowly, as they made their way towards the Castle, Jack could feel the weakness wearing off. Near the gate, Hiccup took the firewood basket himself and Toothless, a little reluctantly, transformed into his smaller form to avoid suspicion. 

Jack cast a thought around. No  — when he was being watched, his neck always felt itchy. They were safe for now. He intertwined his fingers with Hiccup ’s, and they walked slowly to the hut, where they waited only long enough for Hiccup to shed the basket before they both collapsed onto the bed.

For a long moment they lay there, just recovering, then with a sigh, Hiccup turned over so that he could take off his leg without having to reach around Jack.

“You, uh … need anything?” Jack asked.

“It’s fine,” Hiccup said. 

“Guess that means you’re not planning to be up for a while.”

“Not until tomorrow, if I can help it,” Hiccup said.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Jack said. His head was still whirling, even if he wasn’t technically feeling _dizzy_ anymore. As he lay there, he heard Hiccup drop his leg off the end of the bed, followed by its padding, and then he flopped back down next to Jack, wrapping his arm over Jack’s shoulder. Toothless jumped up onto them, draping his feet over Jack’s shoulder and resting his head on Hiccup’s.

“How are you … feeling?” Jack asked, hesitating.

“You remember that time I jumped out a window?” Hiccup asked. 

“Vividly.”

“Imagine that, but instead of you catching me, I fell through one of the Castle laundry mangles on the way down.”

Jack snorted. Hiccup was joking, though it was sometimes hard to tell if that meant things were going well, or really, really badly.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I didn’t mean to see.”

“Not your fault. It’s not like she gave us a choice. I’m sorry I saw, too.”

“I don’t think …” Jack said. “I don’t think it’s as big a deal to me as it is to you. Nearly everyone knows what happened to me, though a few people are missing details here and there. North, Pitch, Punzie … basically every fairy that lives in the forest … Aster. I think you and Merida were the only ones that didn’t really know anything. I only didn’t tell you because, well … I didn’t want you to think that I was trying to pressure you into telling _me_ anything.”

Hiccup sighed.  “I should have told you everything a long time ago. Should have just sat down and … told the story.”

“Was what you said to the West Wind true?” Jack asked. “Do you really … not remember it that well?”

“Well, I remember it _now_ ,” Hiccup said. “But I was pretty out of my head at the time.”

“I don’t doubt.” Jack paused. “Also, you let me believe that you’d just gotten lost and died in the forest.”

“I did,” Hiccup said. “I died because I wandered where I shouldn’t have, got lost, and didn’t find my way back in time.”

“Yeah, but do you realise you _could_ have told me you died fighting a literal night hound?”

“So that’s what that was.”

Jack looked over his shoulder.  “First, you could still have told me you died fighting a vicious fairy monster. Second, you seriously never knew, did you?”

“Fishlegs is the one who’s read the old books cover to cover. I don’t know my fairies on sight, even when I’m not half-delirious.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. He snuggled a little closer to Hiccup.

“Can I … ask something?” Hiccup asked.

“Anything.”

“You fell into the lake as a baby,” Hiccup said. “But you came out of it … you looked about six?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I don’t know why. I’ve never met another changeling. If they’d kept me, I guess I’d have just aged like a human child. Maybe something to do with the fact that they died, and broke the deal? Maybe one last gift from Mother Gothel, just to make sure she wouldn’t have an unwanted baby on her hands?”

He felt Hiccup squeeze him a little tighter, and he shuffled backwards to press himself against Hiccup more closely.

There was a long silence, and Jack couldn ’t really think of a good way to fill it, but he’d never been good at silence, so he just said, “And … how do you feel?”

“You asked that already,” Hiccup said.

“No,” Jack said. “Well, I did, but I mean … about me knowing.” 

“Oh,” Hiccup said, then sighed. “Just … relieved, I guess.”

“Relieved?” Of all the answers, that was one Jack hadn’t been expecting.

“I guess. I thought it’d be more uncomfortable.” Hiccup sighed again, his breath tickling the back of Jack’s neck. “I’ve been so stupid about the whole thing.”

“Everyone’s stupid about something,” Jack said. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “Yeah, it kind of is. Rapunzel said that you helped her cut her hair.”

“Ah,” Jack said. “Not really. Ruffnut did the cutting. I just made sure Tuffnut didn’t freak her out too much. He’s even worse than you at mistimed jokes, you know.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “He’s not tactful. I just … Rapunzel’s had it way worse than me, and much more recently, and she’s already doing something about it. I’ve had five years, and I’ve just wasted all of them, haven’t I?”

Jack didn ’t know how to answer that. He wasn’t good at this. Words weren’t his strong suit. So instead of answering with words, ignoring Toothless’s protesting meows, he turned around until he was facing Hiccup and wrapped his arms around Hiccup’s head and shoulders as best he could, pressing Hiccup’s face into his chest. Hiccup shifted until their legs were entangled, and clung to Jack. 

Toothless gave them a moment, then apparently deciding that they were finished moving, he jumped up onto them again, found a nice place where he could drape himself comfortably over their hips, and nestled in.

Jack didn ’t sleep, and he knew that Hiccup probably hadn’t managed any either, but the night still seemed to pass surprisingly quickly, and before Jack had really noticed that it was getting light, the room was buttery yellow with the sunrise through the window.

Jack could happily have stayed there all day, but soon he felt Hiccup make a move to get up, and the disgruntled  _ mrrp _ and  _ thud _ of Toothless jumping off the bed and onto the floor, surprisingly loud for such a small creature.

“Well,” Hiccup said, buckling on his leg again, “I guess I should at least get used to the idea of showing up at the castle soon.”

“I can give you ideas,” Jack said. “Maybe they’ll concentrate more on the _manner_ of your arrival than all the years it took you to do it. It’s worked for me so far. I think.”

“Jack,” Hiccup said. “You are very precious to me. But if you haven’t realised that there is no way I’m getting out of this without Astrid attempting to shove my leg down my throat, then you’re more foolish than everyone says.”


	87. More Arrivals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer and closer -- to everyone who's stuck along this far, thank you so much! Your comments all mean a lot :)

With the way that Berk had arrived at Castle Dunbroch, Merida had almost let herself believe that all the arrivals to the Castle would arrive in the same fashion, tired but calm, their biggest concern finding enough beds for everyone and with some small store of supplies that would need to have places found for them. There would be more stress, but there would also be a feast, and people would do their best to turn life at the castle into their new normal life.

But the next town that arrived, a little town to the South of Berk, was much worse for wear. 

They didn ’t arrive at the Castle so much as limp to it, and half the carts in the Castle grounds had to be rapidly emptied and re-purposed so that they could be sent out to meet the newcomers, to take some of the load from their tired horses and relieve some of those who should have been riding in carts, only they hadn’t had the room.

Merida did what she had learned to do when she was out of her depth: she kept smiling and trying to appear calm and helpful, and followed her mother ’s instructions. 

It was at least a little easier because Berk volunteered to help. Snotlout and Fishlegs were therefore helping to unload people and the heavier boxes, while Ruffnut and Tuffnut were carrying the less fragile things to the castle. Astrid was helping Merida to get everybody settled, and Fergus and Stoick had gathered the village leaders into a small huddle in one of the rooms, where they were discussing the circumstances in the villages and how to keep the Castle orderly with so many people crammed into it. Rapunzel was helping in the infirmary, fetching and carrying and getting water and whatever the healers needed from the stores.

“This way,” Merida told Astrid, as they returned from escorting the last of the injured newcomers to the infirmary. “We need to check the northern stables on the way back.”

“Got it,” Astrid said, and followed Merida around the corner, away from the gates and towards the farms and the stables. As they walked, Merida could see Astrid scanning the grounds again.

“Got something on your mind?” Merida asked, trying to sound casual.

“Maybe,” Astrid said. “All those huts … do people live in all of them?”

“Sure,” Merida said. “Farmers, mostly.” Thinking she knew what Astrid meant, she said, “We’ll probably have to end up finding some space for people there, too. They’re all inside the walls, so unless we’re directly attacked, it should be fine …”

But Astrid didn ’t respond, still scanning the huts for something. “Yeah,” she said. “But we’ll come to that when we come to it. What about those ones over there?” She gestured to some of the sheds more towards the edge of the Castle grounds, and away from most of the farmland.

“Tool sheds, some of them,” Merida said. “And storage. We moved around some of the stables and things last year, so the huts are still there…”

“Right,” Astrid said.

Merida had a bad feeling about this.  “Why do you ask?”

“Just … curious.” Astrid said.

Merida was getting more and more certain that Astrid had realised something was being hidden, though she didn ’t think Astrid would have realised exactly what — who — it was. After all, who’d jump to the conclusion that their Chief’s dead son was still alive  _ and _ hiding at the castle?

Merida tried not to let her worry show on her face. She didn ’t like all this secrecy nonsense. She’d known it was going to go badly from the start. When Hiccup finally got himself sorted out, she was going to give him  _ such _ an earful about this  …

They got to the stables, and did the count together.

“Five stalls,” Astrid called from the end of the row.

“That’s what I got,” Merida said. She pushed her hair over an ear. “That’ll cover us for now, but we’ll need more space before the next arrivals.”

“Well, that’s a problem,” Astrid said. “Villagers are only going to arrive more often from now. We should start this afternoon, if we can.”

“Mum is organising work groups,” Merida said. “Let’s go let her know.”

“Got it,” Astrid said.

On the way back to her mother, Merida found herself tempted to ask a little about Hiccup. She sort of wanted to know a little about his time in Berk. But if Astrid was starting to get suspicious, then Merida didn ’t want to draw any attention to it.

“So … how do you find it? Being next in line to the Chief?” she asked instead.

“Well,” Astrid said, flicking her head to the side so her fringe wasn’t sitting quite so close to her eyes. “It’s tedious, frustrating, and more trouble than it’s worth.” She grinned. “But anybody else would get it wrong.”

Merida grinned.  “Must be a little different when you were chosen for it. I’m sort of forced into it because of who me Mum and Dad are.”

“You could always leave it to your brothers.”

Merida folded her arms.  “Aye, and you could pass your title to Ruff and Tuff.”

Astrid grinned.  “I guess you got me there.” She pushed her fringe out of her face. “What’s it like knowing your whole life you’ll be expected to rule?”

“Depends,” Merida said. “Three years ago, I’d have said it was the worst. Now …” She grinned, “It’s tedious, frustrating and exactly as much trouble as it’s worth.” 

Astrid elbowed her.  “It doesn’t count as clever if I said it first,” she said.

“I didn’t say _exactly_ what you said! I added a twist!”

“Hey, if you’re done shoving each other, don’t we have work to do?” Snotlout asked on his way past, carrying a crate.

“Unlike you, we can walk and talk at the same time,” Astrid called after him.

“Less arguing, more carrying,” Gobber called after them both, as he headed off somewhere else. “Astrid, Her Majesty wants extra hands at the kitchens.”

“On it,” Astrid said. She clapped Merida on the shoulder. “You go tell Her Majesty about the horses. I’d better get going.”

“I’ll call you if we need you for the building,” Merida said.

“Yeah,” Astrid said. “Let me know.” And she started at a half-jog towards the kitchens.

Merida made her way back towards the gates to where her mother was, and resigned herself to not getting any rest until well after sunset.


	88. Rumbled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this scene breaks my record for most italicised phrases in any single chapter.

Jack was a little surprise to find, when people stopped arriving at the castle for a day and he finally had the opportunity to talk to Merida on Hiccup ’s behalf, that it was almost an hour past dawn and she wasn’t actually awake yet. 

He sat on her windowsill, and rested his staff on the ground  — he ’d been forced to move mostly normally around the castle for the last several days, just in case, and he missed the freedom of being able to travel on the wind as well as his own feet.

“Psst!” he called. “Hey!”

The pile of bedclothes and red hair groaned and shifted, but didn ’t respond.

“Hey! Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

“Gonna choke you with your own bloody staff one of these days, Frost,” Merida grumbled, but after a moment he saw her face lift from somewhere under the cushions, blinking at him as though her eyes wouldn’t quite focus properly yet. “Someone better be on fire.”

“Sorry, Princess,” Jack said. “Just plain old being obnoxious today, I’m afraid.”

The look Merida gave him could have withered even North ’s flowers.

He held up his hands.  “I honestly thought you’d be awake by now,” he said. “And I need to catch you before you have too much company.”

Merida groaned.  “Jack, I’ve been working til near midnight for the last three days getting all these new people settled. Can’t this wait an hour?”

“Maybe,” Jack said. “I need to talk to you about getting Astrid and the others from Berk to visit Hiccup.” He paused. “Just Astrid and her friends to start,” he said. “Maybe he can save Stoick til last.”

There was silence from the bed for a moment, then Merida ’s head emerged again, still clearly not pleased, but now it seemed that she intended to stay awake. She sat up, attempted to rearrange her hair so that it wasn’t quite such a disaster, and swung her bare feet out so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. She shuddered and grumbled, “Starting to get to the season when I’m glad for rugs.”

Jack gave her another few moments to actually respond to what he ’d said.

Swinging her legs a little, she said,  “Well? Finally decided to stop hiding, has he?”

Jack bristled a little at that, but tried not to show it. He knew Merida ’s opinion about keeping secrets, and he knew she was the one that had been doing most of the covering up, too. As long as she was snippy at him, not Hiccup, he’d let it slide.

Merida sighed.  “I know you and he have similar baggage on that score,” she assured him. “You know I wouldn’t have told a soul until he said to. It’s just early.”

“I know,” Jack said.

“So what does he need me to do?”

“Just get Astrid to the hut,” Jack said. “Probably best if she brings the other four as well. You and Punzie should probably tag along.”

“Sure, we’ll just crowd the poor lad into his hut,” Merida said.

“You’re the one that’s been talking most with the Berk crowd,” Jack pointed out. “Hiccup’s been joking about Astrid ripping his tonsils out all week and you know what he’s like. I still haven’t figured out if he’s joking about that or not.”

Merida rubbed her face.  “I’ll bring everyone,” she said.

Jack felt a sudden surge of worry.  “Does that mean yes? Would she actually do that?”

“Probably not?” Merida said. “But she’s not going to be happy.”

“I’ll warn Toothless,” Jack said. 

Merida pushed herself off the bed finally, and said,  “I’ll bring everyone over after breakfast. Best put poor Hiccup out of his misery. But Punzie and I will clear out once we’re sure it’s not going to turn into shouting or punches. Give them a bit of privacy.” 

Jack nodded and stepped down off the windowsill, letting himself drop slowly down to the ground, and checked that he wasn ’t noticed before going back to the hut and telling Hiccup the news.

  
  


***

  
  


Hiccup had asked Jack not to be in the hut with him when the others arrived. Jack hadn ’t wanted to leave, but Hiccup had eventually convinced him. Partially, Hiccup wanted to confront Astrid without having to worry about how Jack might react. Partially, he just wanted to get through one big set of questions at a time, which meant getting past ‘yes, I’m still walking around, but no I’m not still alive’ before getting to ‘and here’s my boyfriend, he’s a changeling, no you don’t need to worry about that’.

He heard the voices before they arrived at the door. Oh, yes, that was Astrid ’s voice alright.

“You’re being awfully cagey about this, Merida. Does this have anything to do with what you and Rapunzel have been whispering about?” 

“Maybe a little,” Merida replied. 

Hiccup stood up from the table, feeling almost light-headed. Why had he decided to do this? Why had none of the others told him this was a terrible idea?

Oh, Odin ’s eyes, he was about to find out if he could die twice.

Toothless, from near the door where Hiccup had told him to wait, looked up at him and made a small grumbling noise. 

Merida didn ’t bother knocking, and Hiccup was a little glad about that. He was half sure that he couldn’t have said anything if he’d wanted to, and half sure that he would have tried to pretend he wasn’t there.

The door swung open, and Merida gestured through.

“Hi,” Hiccup said, one hand still on the table. His voice sounded about as weak as he felt.

Astrid was leading the group, next to Merida. Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut and Tuffnut were behind her, but before he could register any more details, his awareness narrowed entirely to Astrid ’s face as it turned from shock to rage.

With a yell that could only be described as a  “war cry”, Astrid barged into the hut. Hiccup only had time to mutter, “Well, fantastic,” before she had picked him up by the front of his shirt and was carrying him towards the back wall.

He spotted a large, black movement behind her, and heard the growl, and it took all of the parts of his mind that weren ’t currently reminding him that the wall was fairly solid and likely to be painful to shout, “Toothless! Stay down!”

“Hiccup, I don’t care if you’re alive, I’m going to _murder you myself_!” Astrid snarled, and Hiccup felt his feet leave the ground just a little more. The growling hadn’t stopped.

“Toothless, I mean it! Do not move!”

“Five years! _Five years_! Do you have any idea what you —”

“Toothless, _for Thor_ _’s sake —_ ”

“Hiccup, you do not get to ignore me right now! And who is Toothless?”

Finally, Hiccup ’s brain caught up with reality a bit. He realised that he wasn’t actually being smeared across the back wall, that Toothless was still growling but holding his ground, but Astrid still had murder in her eyes.

“Uh,” he said. “Astrid, I’m gonna explain everything. And also, hi everyone else, I see you but I’m a little busy right now. But before I do, I think maybe you should put me down, and also look behind you.”

Astrid looked as though she was going to argue, but she just narrowed her eyes, didn ’t put Hiccup down, and looked over her shoulder.

“ _Odin_ _’s teeth!_ ”

Hiccup grunted as she dropped him, and he didn ’t quite land well enough to stop himself stumbling over onto hands and knees.

“That,” he said. “Is Toothless. Astrid, Toothless. Toothless, Astrid.”

“What is that?” Astrid whispered.

“Friendly,” Hiccup said. “I promise. _Aren_ _’t you, Toothless_?”

Toothless made another low growling noise, but he sat his back half down and watched Astrid from a position that wasn ’t quite so aggressive.

Astrid looked back at Hiccup in something akin to horror.

The rest of them were looking at him from the door, wearing expressions of disbelief that would have been comically similar if Hiccup wasn ’t still feeling like he might throw up if he thought too hard about what was happening.

He tried to straighten his shirt.  “Uh. How about everyone comes inside? Are there mugs? I think I told someone to bring mugs. Did I ask for mugs?” 

“Got them,” Merida said. “You didn’t ask for them, but Punzie had the idea anyway.”

“Good,” Hiccup said. “I have tea. Who wants tea?”

The rest of the crowd filed into the hut, finding places to sit where they could. Hiccup had shoved his notebook into the cupboard, but now he wished he hadn ’t, at least so he had something to do with his hands. 

“I’ll make the tea,” Rapunzel said, as Hiccup sat down on the bed, and Snotlout, Fishlegs and Astrid took seats at the table, and the twins sat on the kitchen bench next to each other.

“Well, I have errands,” Merida said. “I’ll … see everyone back at the castle.”

Rapunzel must have thought that they weren ’t going to break the silence unless she was gone, too, because as soon as the tea was made, she passed around cups, mumbled some excuse, and left the house as well.

Toothless rested his big head on Hiccup ’s lap and Hiccup rubbed his scaly nose and ears.

“So,” Astrid said, after a while, since nobody else seemed to want to be the first one to say something. “Your dad said you were dead.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “That’s pretty close to the truth, actually.”

“You sorta look dead,” Snotlout said. “Around the … skin …”

Hiccup buried his hand in the fur on the back of Toothless ’s neck. “I guess I do, huh.”

There was another long, awkward silence.

“Five years,” Astrid said, more quietly. “Why …”

Hiccup snorted.  “Why do you think?”

Nobody in the room looked at each other.

“Your dad looked for you,” Astrid said. “Every day.”

“He found me in the end,” Hiccup said. “Gave me Mum’s necklace. But he managed to find me around the bit that I spent being actually dead, rather than just …” he waved a hand at his body. “Mostly dead.”

“Can we pause for a moment on _actually dead_?” Snotlout asked. “Because that’s the bit that I’m sorta stuck on right now.”

“It’s a long story,” Hiccup said, drinking some of his tea. “Uh. But I guess we have a long time, right?”’

“I’m certainly not leaving ‘til I have some answers,” Astrid said, tossing her hair aside. Hiccup recognised that tone. She was joking, but he could tell she was still livid with him.

“Right,” Hiccup said. “Uh. Oh, boy, where to start.” He pushed his hair back from his face. What, out of all the things he could say, would make sense with the least amount of explanation?

“Well, at least we know it’s really him,” Tuffnut said. “He babbles just like Hiccup.”

Ruffnut elbowed him. But Hiccup found himself relaxing just a little. Astrid was still giving him that glare like she was actively looking to catch him in a lie, and Tuffnut had recovered enough to joke about him. That made this practically normal, right?

“Toothless,” Hiccup said. “It’s because of Toothless.”

“He’s fairy, isn’t he?” Fishlegs asked. “I think … I think I read about something like him.”

“Grimalkin?” Hiccup suggested.

“Yeah,” Fishlegs said. “But there wasn’t that much information. They’re … not supposed to be that friendly, though. According to the books.” He added that last bit quickly, as though trying to avoid offending Hiccup. No — Hiccup realised after a moment, he was probably more worried about offending Toothless.

“Not usually,” Hiccup agreed. “Well, usually they’re working for the other side. You know. The ones that attack Berk.”

“So, what’s different about this one?” Snotlout asked, still glancing nervously at Toothless every so often.

“They have to have masters,” Hiccup said. “Though you wouldn’t know it from how contrary this one is.” 

Toothless glared at him and snorted. Hiccup responded by tousling his ears.  “It’s … a bit complicated. But I sort of interrupted something in the woods, while I was lost. Turns out you become a Grimalkin’s master if you save its life. But, uh … I wasn’t in such a great way afterwards. Dad found me. Then Toothless did something, and I woke up in the morning.”

There was uncomfortable silence again.

“I kept thinking I saw you,” Astrid said. “Sometimes during the attacks, I’d see something in the forest …”

“Toothless and I hung around a little,” Hiccup said. “Toothless isn’t too fond of Pitch and his lot, either. We used to try and keep some of the attacks away from Berk when we could.”

“But you didn’t come back?” Astrid asked.

Hiccup shrugged.  “If I didn’t make bad choices for bad reasons, I wouldn’t have gotten lost in the woods in the first place. Probably would have been a decent Chief, too.”

There was another awkward silence. Hiccup saw something moving outside.

“Jack, I know you’re listening,” he said, and was rewarded with a soft curse from outside the window.

Ruffnut and Tuffnut whipped their heads around to the window behind them so fast Hiccup was worried they might have injured themselves.

“Jack!” Tuffnut said. “You knew about him, too?”

“Yeah,” Jack said, climbing in through the window and swinging onto the floor next to the table, He was trying to look casual, but Hiccup could tell that he was trying to tell if it was OK to sit next to Hiccup. “Sorry. He made me promise to keep it quiet.”

“So you _did_ intend to keep it a secret!” Astrid said.

“In my defense,” Hiccup said, “The first thing you did when you found out was try to smear me against a wall.”

Astrid blew her hair out of her face.  “Fine,” she said. “Point taken.”

“I’m not saying you’re not right,” Hiccup said. “I’m just saying … maybe it would have been simpler if I just let you be pissed off at me for dying instead of pissed off for lying. And whatever else I do from now on that pisses you off.”

“I’m not that touchy,” Astrid said.

“I’m just that annoying,” Hiccup said.

“He’s right. I can’t stand him most days,” Jack said, in a bland voice. 

“Har har,” Hiccup said.

Finally, Jack seemed to make a decision and came to sit on the bed next to Hiccup.

“Oh, and before I get too busy explaining everything else and forget to mention,” Hiccup said, “He’s also my boyfriend.”

“You know,” Snotlout said. “There was a time when I would have said that _you_ finding someone willing to date you would have been the weirdest thing to happen ever.”

Hiccup grinned.  “What can I say, I’m an overachiever.”

Astrid snorted.  “And you’ve got the same sense of humour as ever.”

“Told you there was no way it was anyone else,” Tuffnut said, smugly, as though he’d won an argument.

“So,” Astrid said, and drained the last of her tea. “How are you going to tell Stoick?”

“Uh,” Hiccup said. “I was sort of hoping I could decide that after this conversation. Or that you might actually strangle me with my own arms and I wouldn’t have to think about it.”

Tuffnut snickered.  “Oh, man, this is going to be  _ priceless _ . ” 

Ruffnut crossed her arms.  “You’re so tasteless.”

“Come on! You can’t say you’re not looking forward to the expression on his face.”

“We’re going now,” Astrid told Hiccup. “I’m not sneaking around and hiding this from him.”

Well, he ’d known it was best to just get it over with, hadn’t he? “Sure.”

“I’ve still got questions, by the way,” Astrid said. “But we’ll talk about those when your Dad is there as well.”

“Efficient,” Hiccup said miserably.


	89. Father Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awkward Goes Here

“You know this is going to end badly, right?” Hiccup asked again.

“Hiccup, if you say that one more time,” Astrid said, more disgruntled than furious now, “It’ll end badly before we even get there.”

They were making their way through the castle foyer, attracting far more attention than Hiccup was comfortable with. The Berkians had formed ranks around him, Astrid and Snotlout leading, the twins on either side of him, and Fishlegs behind him. Jack was walking alongside Ruffnut, clearly trying to get into the little crush subtly, but if there was one thing Berkians were good at, it was getting in the way. Hiccup had Toothless in his arms, and the cat was resting one paw and his chin on Hiccup ’s shoulder, occasionally nuzzling him gently.

They were drawing looks from everyone who was wandering around the big entrance hall, though not quite stares. Hiccup wondered whether it was just because they were a big group moving through the room. Either way, this entire day would be the subject of at least five villages ’ gossip for about a year.

Or maybe he ’d get lucky and whatever happened with Pitch would turn out to be more interesting. 

That was one hell of a bright side. Maybe a supernatural invasion would be sufficient distraction from his family problems.

Hiccup just tried to keep his mouth shut until they got to where Stoick was.

He didn ’t succeed.

“Are we sure the phalanx is necessary?” he asked.

“We only just found you again,” Ruffnut said.

“We’re not letting you get spooked and run off now,” Tuffnut said cheerfully, nudging Hiccup.

They crammed together onto the stairwell, forcing a few of the Castle servants to wait at the top for them all to go past. Hiccup tried to hide his face so that at least they might not remember  _ him _ .

“Sorry,” Astrid said calmly, as they reached the top, as though this were totally normal. “Got to see the Chief.”

They hurried past, and then around the corner, Astrid knocked on a door. From inside, there was a heavy, aggrieved sigh, and Stoick said,  “What is it?”

“It’s us,” Astrid said. “And it’s important.”

Another sigh.  “Come in,” Stoick said. Hiccup tensed. He knew that tone of voice, and it never meant anything good for the person interrupting, especially when it was Hiccup.

Astrid opened the door, and Stoick looked up from the maps strewn across the table. The crush of Berkians pushed Hiccup into the room, and then Astrid and Snotlout stepped aside.

Hiccup felt all the possible responses die in his throat as Stoick froze. Toothless jumped down from his suddenly slack arms, and curled his body around Hiccup ’s flesh-and-bone leg instead.

“Hiccup,” Stoick said, as though he’d just been punched and Hiccup’s name was the sound of all the breath leaving his body.

Then he was rushing towards Hiccup, and Hiccup only had time for a small, squeaky noise of surprise and fear. His feet left the ground for the second time that day, and his vision was suddenly dark.

Then he realised he was being hugged. 

“Hiccup!” Stoick said again, and Hiccup finally managed to find his voice.

“Yeah … Dad … it’s me.”

It was only then that Hiccup realised that he should probably lift his arms and hug back. His arms didn ’t wrap around Stoick any more than they had when he was three years old, but he tried as best he could.

“We thought you died,” Stoick said. “I found …”

“I kinda am dead, Dad,” Hiccup said. “Just too stubborn to stop moving.”

“That’s my boy,” Stoick said. “Oh, Odin, I thought I’d killed you.”

Hiccup swallowed, hard. Of all the things that he’d thought about when deciding, right at the start, whether to go back or not, none of them had been whether Stoick might have felt _guilty_ about what had happened. Certainly he’d never imagined that of all things, Stoick might be _crying_ … but there they were, and that was definitely a catch in his father’s voice. That wasn’t fair. His father was supposed to be … well … stoic. He wasn’t supposed to _cry_ , especially not over sons too foolish and stubborn to do as they were told.

“I’m the one who wandered off and got lost,” Hiccup said.

“Only because I was too stubborn.”

Hiccup didn ’t have a lot to say for that.

From the other side of the room, a door banged open.

“Stoick?” Gobber asked. “I heard shouting.”

Stoick finally put Hiccup down, and grabbing Hiccup by the shoulders, spun them both around so that Gobber could clearly see Hiccup pushed out in front of him.

“He’s not dead!” Stoick said, voice still thick with tears. “Gobber, he’s come back!”

Gobber, to his credit, only gawped for a moment before walking over to them and looking Hiccup up and down.  “Could’ve fooled me. He looks like he’s got about enough blood to fill half a thimble.” He paused, reassessed, and added. “And hasn’t slept in a month.”

“Good to see you again, too,” Hiccup said, feeling on much more comfortable ground with this interaction than Stoick’s.

“Well, you _did_ make me make do with the twins as forge hands,” Gobber said. “You know, the one thing you were actually good for.”

Hiccup bent down and picked up Toothless again, and the cat settled into his arms. 

“That cat,” Stoick said. “When I found you, that cat was …” He reached out one finger, which Toothless sniffed, and then licked.

“It’s a bit complicated,” Hiccup said. “But he’s the reason I didn’t stay … how I was when you found me.”

Stoick looked up sharply.  “He’s fairy?”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “But he’s on our side. I saved his life, he saved mine, apparently it means we’re friends now.”

“Well,” Stoick said. “I’ve never thanked a cat before, but I suppose I should probably start.”

“His name’s Toothless,” Hiccup said.

“Thank you, Toothless,” Stoick said sincerely. 

Toothless rubbed his face against Stoick ’s still-outstretched finger, eyes closed, and purred.

“Stoick,” Gobber said. “Want me to tell Fergus you’ll be a little longer with those maps?”

“Just take them to him,” Stoick said. “This is more important, today. Send my apologies.”

“I’m sure there won’t be any need,” Gobber said. “I’ll, uh … tell him the happy news?”

“Let me,” Jack said. “You probably want to catch up.”

“Thanks, Jack,” Hiccup said. He wasn’t sure that Gobber and Stoick needed to know that Fergus had known all along that Hiccup was alive and didn’t tell them, and Fergus probably wouldn’t have been able to disguise his relief quite as effectively as Elinor. 

Jack patted Hiccup on the shoulder on the way past, and started gathering up the maps, with Gobber ’s help.

“Come sit down,” Stoick said. “You’ll tell us everything, of course.”

“Sure,” Hiccup said, though he wished he could have left at least some of the questions for later. This day had involved enough awkward explanations already.

Stoick pulled the chair out for Hiccup, and Hiccup dropped into it, Toothless settling down for a nap on his lap. He rested his hands in the cat ’s fur.

“Hey,” Tuffnut said. “I just noticed. Does your foot go ‘clunk’?”

“Oh,” Hiccup said. “Yeah.” He pulled up the leg of his trousers a little way, until the others could see that one leg was made out of wood. He glanced at his father, who wasn’t looking at the leg, and doing a bad job of finding anything else to look at.

“Not bad,” Gobber said, with slight admiration. “Maybe I’ll get you to make my next one.”

“I wish I could have used the forge,” Hiccup said. “There’s a few things wood just won’t do.”

“I’ll bet,” Gobber said, and pulled up a chair next to Stoick.

“So,” Stoick said. “Where did you go? Have you been here? All this time?”

Hiccup shook his head.  “I … actually didn’t go that far. There was a little clearing near Berk.”

“He used to come by and help with the attacks,” Astrid said. “Remember I told you I saw something strange in the woods a few times?”

Gobber snorted.  “Him and what army?”

Toothless jumped off Hiccup ’s lap, transforming smoothly into his larger, scalier, and rather more intimidating form.

“This one,” Hiccup said.

There was silence around the table for a moment, and Snotlout muttered,  “I will never get used to that.”

“Still the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” Tuffnut said. “And if everyone remembers, I’ve seen hair that changes colour on its own. Just a reminder.”

“Alright,” Gobber said. “I’ll admit. That’s an impressive trick, kitty.”

Toothless sat down and began to groom himself. Hiccup reached over and scratched Toothless ’s cheek where scales met fur. The big Grimalkin purred and leaned into his hand.

“Aww, he’s just a big softie,” Ruffnut said.

“I keep telling him that,” Hiccup said. “But he doesn’t seem to want to listen.”

Stoick ran a big hand over his face.  “I can’t believe it,” he said. “You’re still alive … the cat …” As if he’d suddenly thought of something, he said, “Did you … when you woke up, did you find …”

Hiccup reached into the neck of his shirt and pulled the chain and disk out.  “I still have it,” he said. “I figured you’d found me and left it there.”

“Why didn’t you come back?” Stoick asked, his voice suddenly rough.

Hiccup suddenly felt his chest tighten.  “Thought it’d work out better for everyone. At least it finally got you to name Astrid your successor instead of me,” he said. 

“It wasn’t better,” Fishlegs said. “We would have …”

“Really?” Hiccup asked, pointedly. “The most useless Chief Berk would have ever seen?”

He immediately regretted saying that. He could see his father wince. Those were Stoick ’s words, after all.

“We didn’t want you to _die_ ,” Tuffnut said, uncomfortably.

“Just disappear somewhere quietly, where I couldn’t bother anyone else?” Hiccup suggested. 

Stoick was looking truly miserable now, and Hiccup ran a hand through his hair.  “Sorry,” he said quietly.

“No,” Stoick said. “I … I understand. I just thought. Hoped. That if you’d found the necklace, you might have known …”

“I knew,” Hiccup said. “I just … if I’d gone back, we all would have forgotten again.”

“He’s not wrong,” Gobber said quietly. “You’re both as stubborn as each other. Maybe the time apart was … no? Alright. Shutting up.”

Hiccup and Stoick had both given Gobber twin looks of slight disbelief.

Hiccup chuckled.  “Well, you’re not wrong that we’re both stubborn.”

“Aye,” Stoick said. “We are that.”

There was a long silence, then Stoick coughed.  “Well,” he said. “I. Um. Listen, Hiccup.” He leaned forward. “You always knew the woods. Do you think, maybe … if I went and got those maps back, you’d …?”

Hiccup chuckled. That was Stoick, alright, when he tried to make amends for things. The conversation was too uncomfortable, so just move on and hope that the apology was understood. But this time, Hiccup was inclined to accept the apology.

“Sure,” he said. “I’ve got some other news you might want to know, too.” He stood up. “Let’s get to work.”

“Yes,” Stoick said, standing up, too. “Right. Good. Astrid?”

“You should probably hear this, too,” Hiccup said to her. As much as he sort of wanted to work with his father alone, just to see what he might have been missing out on all those years, Astrid was the successor to the Chiefdom now, and Hiccup wanted her to know that he had no intention of taking that role back.

“Guess that’s my afternoon spoken for, then,” Astrid said.

“We’ve got other stuff to be doing,” Snotlout said.

“Wait,” Stoick stopped Fishlegs as he stood up. “Go tell Fergus … and Elinor … that if we can spare food for it, I want a feast arranged.”

Hiccup ’s heart sank. “Oh, Dad, no …”

Stoick looked at Hiccup with an expression so sincere that Hiccup felt all the conviction leave his body.  “I just got my son back,” he said. “Let me celebrate.”

“Uh,” Hiccup said, then, to his own surprise as much as anyone else’s, “OK. Sure.”

Stoick studied him for a moment, and Hiccup wished for a moment that he ’d tried to summon a little more excitement, expecting a brusque, ‘well, good, then,’ or ‘alright’ — the usual response when Stoick had gotten his way, despite knowing that Hiccup was only agreeing because he felt forced to.

But instead, Stoick nodded and said,  “Thanks, son.”

And Hiccup really didn ’t know what to do about that.


	90. A Fairy Interlude III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I couldn't resist interrupting. You should know me by now.

The sky was clear when the West Wind met Nicholas St North for the negotiations to begin. It was night time  — a nod to the Man in the Moon, so that he could watch from his exile, if he chose to.

But he could not be there, and though Nicholas St. North held his head high, that one fact drove away what little comfort he might otherwise have had.

He stood by the table as the West Wind appeared. This time they were not alone. There was no power known to human or fairy that could have kept their audience from these negotiations, tradition or no tradition.

The West Wind considered him as she arrived, and in her pale eyes there was something like understanding and something like pity. They sat together at the table.

“I am the West Wind,” she said. “And I am here to negotiate on behalf of my own interests in these woods.”

“I am Nicholas St. North,” North replied. “My master in exile will not attend, so I take up role of speaking for him, as decreed and according to tradition.”

“My terms are these,” the West Wind said. “These woods henceforth will be mine to manage. All fairies who live here will be under my judgement. I will, of course, allow those not amenable to my rule to leave unharmed and unrestrained, regardless of the time of their departure. I will keep all traditions and rules. You, Nicholas St. North, will relinquish your control over your half of the woods to me, or I will bring war upon you, and challenge you in battle for the right.”

North had expected this. War was impossible. Without the Man in the Moon, they would not win. He nodded, and said,  “War is not a goal for either of us, yes? But these are our terms.” He laid his hands flat on the table, as if stretching a cloth in front of the West Wind upon which she could see his words written. “I relinquish my Mound and my control. We are under your arbitration, but not your judgement. Fairy transgresses against fairy in woods? Your problem. Man in Moon calls us back? We go to him. We keep our oaths.”

“Then, I will maintain power of exile,” the West Wind said. “I will not have revolution foment under my nose with no power to prevent it.”

“Is fair,” North said.

“And the usual rules apply for defections and changing alliances,” the West Wind said.

“Of course. And the traditions regarding humans?”

“Unchanged,” the West Wind said. “Until circumstances necessitate change. As it has always been.”

North nodded. He didn ’t need to check the terms with his followers. He knew their opinions already, and these were better terms than they could have asked for.

“Then, we accept,” he said.

“As expected,” the West Wind said. “Now let us discuss the rules and traditions that we _will_ change …”

  
  


***

  
  


As the two leaders sat at the table and had their conversation, Pitch Black stood in the lead of the crowd behind the West Wind … his _mistress_ … and tried not to let any of her subjects — they should be _his_ subjects — on either side show his face. He tapped a finger on his sleeve. 

As expected, North was too much of a coward to stand and fight, and nobody else was going to have a chance. Well. It seemed these were desperate times, and his measures would indeed be desperate. 

First, he needed to wait out this interminable  ‘negotiation’. Then he needed to speak to a few select people…


	91. Getting to Know You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How tall is Castle Dunbroch? As tall as the plot says it is. Hush and just let the family drama soak in.

The maps were on the table. Hiccup, Astrid and Stoick leaned over them, talking quietly.

At least, that ’s what Hiccup wished they were doing. Astrid was doing her best, by which he meant that she was mostly managing to hide her laughter at his expense, but she’d coughed into her hand far too many times for someone who didn’t have some sort of inclement illness.

Stoick, on the other hand, either hadn ’t noticed Astrid’s amusement or was deliberately … 

No, Hiccup thought he must not have noticed. Stoick was a proud man, and he didn ’t take being laughed at with the same grace as Gobber or even Snotlout. In public maybe he would have let it pass, but there were just the three of them and it was Astrid — surely Stoick wouldn’t have a problem calling her out for it, to preserve his dignity?

Hiccup was starting to doubt how well he knew Stoick, because this was like no other conversation he ’d ever had with his father. 

Oh, at first it had been  _ fine _ . At first it had even made him a little emotional because he ’d brought Stoick and Astrid up to speed on what he and Jack had learned, and Stoick hadn’t interrupted him at all. Not even once. And when he did speak, it had been to ask for details, not … not  _ justifications _ . Not to tell Hiccup it couldn ’t be true, or it didn’t make sense.

Then the maps had come out again, and that was when things had started to get  … awkward.

“And if they come from this angle,” Stoick would say, and then he’d look up at Hiccup and Hiccup would stare at the map blankly, because it had been so long since he’d used one that the lines barely meant anything to him anymore, and the battle tactics being discussed even less, and as his father stared at him, clearly getting more and more disappointed in the silence, Hiccup would be forced to mutter something like, “But isn’t that thing there going to cause them a problem?” and point desperately to something on the map. Astrid would say something like, “That marks a border between two territories, Hiccup, it doesn’t exist in real life,” and then he and Stoick would be back to staring again.

Finally, Hiccup pushed the map away and said,  “Look, Dad … I appreciate that you’re trying to include me in this, and I’m glad you’re listening. But … all this?” He gestured to the maps. “It means nothing to me.”

Stoick gave a laugh that Hiccup hadn ’t realised until now was actually nervous. All those years together when Hiccup was young, how had he not realised? “Of course it means something! All those … those hours, when you were younger,” Stoick gestured to the maps, though he looked like his hands weren’t exactly sure what part they were supposed to be gesturing to. “And you made your own maps, too, as a boy. Odin’s missing eye, maps used to be about the only thing I could make you pay attention to, when you were …”

“About eight,” Hiccup finished for him. He tried to think of the gentlest way to say this, his chest tightening. Oh, it hadn’t even been a day. He should have known that it wouldn’t be long until he and his father fought for the first time. He pushed the maps away across the table, misaligning all the carefully-laid papers. “Dad … can we just try going right back to the start? Pretend nothing that happened when I was a kid … happened?” he pushed his hair back from his face. “I mean, I barely listened, and now it’s been five years. I don’t know what stuck and what didn’t.” And what he’d deliberately tried to forget, but he didn’t mention that part to his father.

“Never … happened?” Stoick asked, sounding incredulous.

“Ah, no, that’s not what I meant,” Hiccup said, backtracking hastily. “Just … regarding maps and things. Just the lessons.” He leaned on the table and didn’t look his father in the face. “What I’m trying to say is that I want to help, I really do, but I don’t know what I’m doing with these, and I’m only going to get in your way.”

Astrid at some point had stopped hiding giggles and was looking at Stoick. Hiccup tried to take some comfort in the fact that she looked like she was waiting expectantly to see what he would say, not like she feared an explosion.

But then, she was still pissed at him for leaving, and for lying. What did she care if he got yelled at?

Stoick drew himself up with a deep breath, and Hiccup braced himself, but to his surprise, Stoick let it out in a long, deep sigh, rather than a tirade.  “You’re right,” he said. “I should have known you wouldn’t just … dive back in.”

He looked miserable. Hiccup didn ’t know how to deal with this. He looked at Astrid for help.

She just folded her arms and nodded to his father. The message was clear. He was Hiccup's father, and therefore Hiccup's problem. _  
_

Hiccup gave her a look that he hoped conveyed just how unimpressed he was at her response, and how much he ’d be grumbling at her later, and ran his hand through his hair. 

He didn ’t know maps, and he didn’t know tactics, and he certainly didn’t know what his father wanted, except that he seemed to want Hiccup to be a part of the process somehow.

He looked up at the window, just to be looking somewhere that wasn ’t at either Stoick or Astrid.

Hm. Maybe  …

“Dad,” he said, “Let’s take a break for a while.”

“If you say so,” Stoick said, sounding defeated.

“No, Dad, I mean … follow me. I think I have a plan.”

He turned to Astrid, wondering how to ask her for some time alone with his father without it being awkward, but she waved her hand at them.  “I have to go talk to Fergus and Elinor about what we’ve discussed so far. You two have your break, and I’ll clean up here. Thanks, Hiccup, by the way, for getting these out of order with your dramatic gesture.”

“Wouldn’t be like I was back unless I was annoying you,” Hiccup said. 

Astrid blew her fringe out of her eyes and folded her arms.

“Thanks, Astrid,” Hiccup called over his shoulder as he and Stoick walked to the staircase.

“What’s this idea of yours?” Stoick asked.

“Fresh air,” Hiccup said. “I, uh.” He hesitated, not knowing if his father wanted to hear quite so many details about his life after Berk. No — deciding if he was comfortable sharing them.

He decided to take the plunge. Today had been all personal conversations, so why stop now?

“I sorta haven’t been cooped up in a building like this since I … left,” he said, deciding at the last minute that reminding Stoick of the exact circumstances of his leaving was probably not a good idea. “I think better outside.”

“That was always true,” Stoick said, carefully. “Outside or in the forge.”

“Or the forge,” Hiccup agreed.

Hiccup led them to the top window that he ’d seen Jack using sometimes. From here, there was a short staircase and just a little bit of a climb … but his father was still pretty strong, right?

“Hiccup, what in Odin’s name …?” Stoick asked as his son climbed up on a windowsill and stuck his head out the window to scout the walls.

“Just … a little further,” Hiccup said. He ducked back in. “Think you can climb a little way? I’m pretty sure you’d be able to reach the roof from here.”

Hiccup had no better word for how Stoick looked than  ‘befuddled’. “Listen, son, maybe we should just … get back to work,” he said. “We can set up a table outside, maybe.”

Hiccup surprised himself by grinning. There was something about the wind ruffling his hair, the slight adrenaline rush both from sitting on a windowsill so far up and from all the strained conversations he ’d had that day, and possibly just a little thrill that for the first time he could remember this was  _ his _ idea, and  _ his _ comfort zone, and not his father ’s. He glanced out the window again, and said, “You remember when I was a kid, and we’d play hide and seek, but you already knew all the best places in the house?”

“I remember you got creative,” Stoick grumbled. “Had to repair the roof that time you managed to bury yourself in the thatch. Wouldn’t have found you if your foot didn’t break through.”

That leg was gone now, but Hiccup remembered. He ’d had the scratches for a week and Stoick had set some very strict rules about hide and seek and property damage after that. 

“But I don’t see what that …” Stoick continued, but Hiccup interrupted him.

“You know, that memory, at least, is still pretty good,” said Hiccup. “When I was a kid, you were … a really good dad.”

Stoick looked at him for a long time, then sighed.  “I’m no squirrel,” he said.

“You don’t have to be,” Hiccup said. “It’s more of a hoist than a climb. I’ll go first and help you up.”

“Wait,” Stock said. “Maybe I should …”

“Of the two of us,” Hiccup said, easing himself out onto the windowsill and reaching with one leg to reach the ledge he needed, “I’m the one that can survive a drop from this height. I’ll go first.”

He didn ’t wait to hear Stoick’s response, just swung his other leg off the windowsill, feeling his heart leap as for a moment the only contact he had with the castle was the one ledge under his flesh foot. The wooden one would have been a more convenient position, but his flesh one was much less likely to slip. 

He caught the ledge with his hand, and wiggled his toes into a crack between two of the great stone slabs to help lift himself up onto the roof. 

He turned around and reached his hand down as his father stepped out and followed him, both of them grunting as Stoick ’s weight shifted. Hiccup suddenly didn’t have a lot of confidence that he could actually provide any help if his father slipped, but luckily it wasn’t a problem. Stoick didn’t use footholds, just his gigantic arms to pull himself onto the roof beside Hiccup. 

They sat in silence for a moment, looking out over the castle grounds and letting the wind blow through their hair. Stoick even took off his ceremonial helmet and put it aside. After the day he ’d had, Hiccup was a little surprised to learn that it was barely past noon. 

The trees of the woods waved gently in the breeze, and though the distance was far, they were up high enough to get a decent view of the woods. 

“It’s … nice up here,” Stoick said, and Hiccup was starting to realise where he got his inability to keep his mouth shut when he got nervous.

“Yeah,” Hiccup said.

Another silence, as they both looked out over the trees.

“You know,” Hiccup said. “Over that way … you can’t really see it.” He scooted closer to his father to point. “There’s a clearer area. It’s sort of strange, I don’t know why. It’s not very close to the edges of the trees. But it’d be easier to move a lot of people through quickly.”

Stoick looked over at Hiccup.  “Where else? Is it big enough for a battle?”

“Maybe,” Hiccup said. “But it’s not totally clear. There’s enough trees to make it difficult, even if it’d be easier than the forest around it.”

“I wouldn’t choose to fight there, then,” Stoick said thoughtfully.

Hiccup frowned and pointed over an another direction.  “But over there … that’s the thickest part of things. But from where I’ve seen Pitch before — or the West Wind — if their forces come, they’ll have to plan around that area. I don’t think they’d march a force of any real size through it.”

Stoick didn ’t interrupt, so Hiccup kept going, pointing out spots where the woods were thicker or thinner, places that he’d recalled Jack saying that important things were, like North’s mound or approximately where Gothel’s tower was.

After a while, he stopped talking and realised that Stoick was still listening. 

“Uh,” he said. “Sorry, most of that probably didn’t make much sense,” he said awkwardly.

Stoick shook his head.  “No, keep going. I’ll fill in a map later.” 

“I, uh. I’m not sure there’s much more to say,” Hiccup said, pushing his hair out of his face. “If there was more, I would have just kept talking.” He grinned. “I’m not good at shutting up.”

“Well,” Stoick said, clapping him on the shoulder, in a manner that Hiccup recognised was comparatively gentle and perhaps even a little nervous but still rocked Hiccup forward a little, making him brace his foot against the roof to prevent himself sliding forward. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ve got five years of strange mumblings to make up for.”

“I’ll, uh. Get right on that,” Hiccup said.

There was another long pause. 

“Listen, Hiccup,” Stoick said. “You don’t have to … come to the feast, if you really don’t want to.”

Hiccup sighed.  “It’s fine,” he said. “I’ll come.”

“You never did like crowds,” Stoick said.

“I never did like being the butt of every comment,” Hiccup said.

“It’s not … it won’t be like that anymore.”

“It will,” Hiccup said, and looked at his father. “I’ve been missing for five years, and I come back like this?” He gestured to himself. “If it weren’t that we might all die in a fairy battle before the week’s out, I’d say this was the biggest thing to ever happen in Berk.”

Stoick looked down.  “I never meant to make you into the talk of the town.”

Hiccup sighed.  “A lot of things happened that neither of us meant. I’ll go to the feast. I’m not going to make people talk any less just because it won’t be in front of me.”

Stoick put his hand on Hiccup ’s shoulder. “Well,” he said. “Now that you’ve taught me a thing or two.” Hiccup could see the hint of teeth past his beard as he smiled. “How about you tell me how you plan to get us down from this roof?”


	92. The Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to remind everyone that this point of the plot took 92 chapters and just under 130,000 words to reach.  
> Apparently I really like listening to myself type.

Pitch stood in the clearing that had used to hold the hut of Mr. Just-Someone-Who-Lives-In-The-Woods, and now held some abandoned shacks and the remains of a chicken coop. He tried to hide the sigh that had been building in his chest for the past hour, watching the pitiful trickle of fairykind entering the clearing with all the enthusiasm of snot dribbling from a child’s nose. He clasped his hands behind his back instead, and maintained his expression of disdain. These were not the cream of the crop by any means; they were really only those who could be convinced to break the tenuous truce while St. North and the West Wind — _Mistress_ , his mind reminded him, his oath compelling him to show respect even if he didn’t feel it — played at politics. There had always been ‘agreements’ about the humans living in and outside the forest, brokered by the — his _mistress_ — right at the start of things. Pitch, of course, would never go against her wishes like this. But if, in the meantime, some of the underlings got out of control … well, that was what the mindless tended to do, and he could be seen to be appropriately outraged, provided he entered Berk after the final blow had been struck.

When he could finally be sure that there would be no more arrivals, and waiting any longer would seem to  … lack conviction … he cleared this throat. 

“Well?” he asked, and jerked his head towards the Berk. “You know what to do.”

It may not have been as many as he would have wanted, but the swarm that surged through the forest was still just a little gratifying to watch. For a moment, he mourned not being able to see the humans scramble as they were overrun, but then he reminded himself there were larger victories in store, and then all was right with the world again.

From behind him, a woman he would never dare call  ‘older’ in a red, crushed-velvet dress walked up behind him, putting a hand on her hip.

“She won’t be happy with you, you know,” she said.

“She is beholden to the rules, and by the time she has sorted out what happened, we will either have won or lost, and it won’t matter,” Pitch said.

Mother Gothel gave him one of her deliciously anticipatory smiles.  “Confident,” she said.

“I thought you were staying well away from tonight’s deeds,” he said. “We decided it was better that way.”

“I am,” Gothel said. “I came to ask about the … other problem.”

“Ah. Your missing charge.”

“You have your Grimalkin,” Gothel said. “I had my plans.”

Pitch bristled. Gothel had made it very clear that she didn ’t think regaining his last Grimalkin would be an effective show of power. It was only one Grimalkin, she said. But that one Grimalkin was the only one to have ever lucked into a half-dead, half-crazed human saviour, and it just so happened to be the one that had disobeyed direct orders in the process of escaping. It was not about the Grimalkin, it was about reputation and face, and about showing that Pitch had not been beaten by a cat and a  _ child _ . 

But of course, it would be churlish not to concede that Mother Gothel ’s plan would have been a boon to their cause as well, had the girl not managed to convince the changeling brat to spirit her away from the tower before she could be used.

“Do it, then,” Pitch said. “I’ll finish here. It seems like we are running out of time to be circumspect.”

“Well, then,” Mother Gothel said. “I’ll see you when your master plan has come to fruition.”

“I’ll be sure you get the full details afterwards.”

“Save it for after the war,” Mother Gothel said, with a grin just a little too wolfish to be truly refined, “And make it a re-enactment.”

Pitch smiled thinly, and Mother Gothel melted back into the trees.

He waited a good, long time, checking his clothing and his fingernails occasionally, then pushed his hair back just to take care of any stray hairs. Travelling through the shadows, he stepped out of the woods at Berk.

“Everyone,” he called, unable to quite make his voice sounds sincere. “Everyone, stop! This is —”

He stopped, and what was left of his blood began to boil.  “What,” he hissed. “Is going on here?”

Berk was destroyed, to be sure. The forge was ablaze, most of the houses were missing their thatch or on fire, and there wasn ’t a house to be seen that had all of its walls still intact. His people were still looting when he arrived, but at his hiss, they seemed to notice the change in the air, and from every destroyed house in Berk, the fairies he had commanded to the little village emerged with their heads down and eyes wary.

Pitch pushed his hair back from his head again. No. It wasn ’t their fault. It was his. He had been too distracted to notice the humans were moving, though that should have been a priority. The negotiations had briefly put him out of sorts. But that was alright. That could be remedied.

If they had gone anywhere, it would be to the Castle. Some sort of evacuation. This was too quick for the piecemeal move of humans abandoning a dangerous village to seek shelter with families elsewhere, and too much was left behind for their destination to be anywhere very far. The Castle was close enough, and humans would believe its walls were safer than an exposed village in times of trouble.

And that meant he still had a lever. He still had a way to make this work. 


	93. Mother Knows Best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the recent hiatus -- work and school caught up with me a bit. But we're nearly at the end so I'm going to try and keep it a straight shot to the finish.
> 
> Also holy crap I can't believe how close we are to the end ... and how many plot points are left in the remaining chapters. Hold onto your butts, kids.

Jack was sitting with Hiccup on the bed. It was only just gone morning at the hut. Hiccup had spent the last two days talking tactics with the leaders, but since that feast Stoick had wanted was that evening, he ’d opted to spend most of the day in the hut instead. For once, Jack had managed to keep Hiccup in the bed for more than two minutes after he’d woken up, while Hiccup told Jack everything he’d missed over the last two days.

“Knew you’d end up on the roof eventually,” Jack teased him. “And you didn’t even try to jump off or anything! I’m proud of you. Kinda.”

“Unlike you,” Hiccup said, “I’m capable of having a conversation without turning it into some sort of prank.”

“I would never,” Jack said, mock offended, then squirmed as Hiccup poked him in the ribs. “Ah! Ow! Hiccup, I would never!”

“Sure,” Hiccup said, sitting up.

There was a knock at the door, just as Hiccup had finished getting his leg on.

“One minute,” Hiccup called, and quickly pulled on trousers, doing up his nightshirt right to the neck. Another thing that Jack had complicated feelings about. On one hand, it was sort of nice to know that he got special treatment when it came to getting to see Hiccup’s bare skin. But on the other hand, he felt sort of sad every time Hiccup tied up his shirt to the neck and made sure his cuffs covered all the way to his hands when someone knocked on the door.

Hiccup opened the door, and Jack looked around him to see who it was. 

“Hey, Punzie!” Jack said. 

“Hi,” Rapunzel said, Pascal on her shoulder as usual, ducking her head a little. “I was wondering if I could set up my easel here?”

“Sure,” Hiccup said. “I think I’ll work outside today myself.”

“Breakfast first,” Jack said.

“Oh!” Rapunzel said. “I’m sorry, I can come back later …”

Hiccup waved a hand.  “No, you’re no trouble. Do you want something?”

“No, I had breakfast at the Castle,” Rapunzel said. “I’ve been up for a while. Merida’s rubbing off on me, I think. And it’s pretty loud in the Castle in the mornings.”

She moved off and started to set up her easel, and Hiccup started the fire to make toast.

Jack helped by slicing the bread, and Hiccup was just letting the toast cook while he collected the wicker from the linen closet  — the storage shed was still theoretical, so the cupboard in the hut was currently used for everything from sheets to firewood to the toolbox and the basket wicker.

But while they were in the middle of that, there was a noise outside, and Jack looked out the window.

All the blood dropped away from his face quickly enough to leave him lightheaded. He stumbled over towards Hiccup and tapped him on the shoulder a few times, needing to get his attention before he ’d regained the power of speech.

“Wh-” Hiccup began, but the second half the question died as he saw what Jack had seen. 

Hiccup paused only long enough to swing the toast grill out from the hearth to stop it catching fire, and then he and Jack rushed outside to stand between Rapunzel and Mother Gothel.

Rapunzel didn ’t seem to have seen Gothel yet, concentrating on the easel and the roof of the castle, but she looked up as the two boys rushed out. 

“Is something …” then Jack heard her gasp, and he wasn’t sure if the small clatter was her putting her brush down on the easel or dropping it. Pascal squeaked.

“Hello, dears,” Gothel said, one hand on her hip and the other on her chest. “What a lovely day to meet you both. I see that after breaking into my house repeatedly you’ve decided to take it upon yourselves to prevent me from talking to my daughter.”

“It wasn’t breaking in,” Jack heard Hiccup say. “Rapunzel lived there, too, and she has the right to have guests.”

Jack tried not to wince. Hiccup wasn ’t familiar with how Gothel twisted things, but Jack couldn’t step in now, not without agreeing with Gothel in some way.

“Oh?” Gothel said. “Of course, when did I ever say that she couldn’t have friends? I suppose I’m just a little hurt that in all that time, she never introduced me to either of you. Like she’s ashamed of her own mother.”

“I was never ashamed of you,” Rapunzel said quietly, into the easel.

“Sorry, dear?” Gothel asked. “What was that? You know, it’s hard enough to hear you indoors when you mumble like that, but it’s really quite impossible when we’re outside.”

Hiccup glanced at Jack, but Jack didn ’t have an answer to his conundrum, either. Neither of them — and not even both of them together — were strong enough to take on Gothel head to head. And if anyone had the right to tell Gothel to go take a hike, it was Rapunzel, but neither Jack nor Hiccup could turn around and check if Rapunzel wanted — or needed — help without turning their backs to the fairy witch.

But before Jack could make the decision and say something derogatory that he was definitely going to regret, Rapunzel stepped out from behind the easel. She stood between Jack and Hiccup and said,  “I was never ashamed of you, Mother. But you should be ashamed of yourself.” She drew herself up a little as she spoke, and Pascal on her shoulder did the same, as much as a creature that could fit in the palm of a hand could.

Jack couldn ’t repress a vindictive “Ha!”

Gothel looked like she ’d been struck, drawing herself back and away from the three of them as though they were something unpleasant she’d found on her floor.

Jack could feel Rapunzel ’s arm start to tremble. He caught her hand in his, and squeezed it tight. Pascal nudged her cheek, too, just a little motion before Gothel could catch it.

Then Gothel said,  “Rapunzel, darling! What happened to your  _ hair _ ? ”

Jack heard the tremble in Rapunzel ’s voice as she said, “I cut it.”

“But …”

Jack had heard a lot of conversations in his time between Rapunzel and Gothel. He had heard Gothel angry, he ’d heard her weary-and-put-upon voice, he’d heard her this-conversation-is-over voice, he’d heard her patronising and wheedling. He’d never heard her off-balance, and now she was positively aghast. It was, if Jack was honest, a  _ delight _ .

“What’s wrong, Mother?” Rapunzel asked, sweetly.

“Your hair …” Gothel said, then seemed to recover herself. Her eyes snapped from Rapunzel to Jack, to Hiccup and back again. “I see. Well, that’s … certainly a shock. But Rapunzel, you left without ever saying goodbye!” Her face morphed instantly from shock to pained, injured innocence. “And with things the way they are in the woods … what was I supposed to think?”

Rapunzel started to shake again, and Jack went to say something on her behalf, but he was interrupted by a young, but regal voice with a thick accent saying,  “May I ask who this is, that has arrived at the Castle without presenting herself to her hosts?”

_ Oh, Merida, you are proof that miracles wear riding boots _ , Jack thought. 

Gothel looked far less taken aback by this interruption, stepping back and turning to face Merida.  “Oh. I’m sorry. You can call me Mother Gothel.”

“Princess Merida Dunbroch,” Merida said, folding her arms and stopping. She was flanked by Astrid, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, who were all glancing, as though unsure, between Rapunzel and Mother Gothel. “What’s your business at my castle?”

“Oh, _your_ castle,” Gothel said. Her voice had a derogatory tinge just small enough that you could almost convince yourself you were imagining it, if you didn’t know her. “Well, I apologise if I have been rude. I only wanted to talk to my daughter … I just learned that she was here, after I woke up one morning to find her entirely vanished!” 

Jack felt another chill, realising how easily he might have believed she was really concerned for Rapunzel if he didn ’t know any better. Rapunzel was really starting to shake now, and Merida folded her arms.

“Nevertheless,” Merida said, arms folded. “We don’t take kindly to fairies coming onto the grounds unannounced around here.”

“I see,” Gothel said, her eyes suddenly narrowing. “My sincere apologies — my worry got the best of me. But if I may borrow my daughter for a moment, mightn’t I have a few words with her? I have no intention of trespassing on your grounds very long.”

“Rapunzel?” Merida said. “Your choice. Do you want words with her?”

Jack ’s stomach dropped as he worried that still, it wasn’t long enough, that despite everything, Rapunzel still felt … that she’d choose to go with Gothel even if …

“I’m done,” Rapunzel said, quietly but clearly. “I don’t want to talk to her anymore.”

“You heard her,” Merida said. “As owner of the castle, and Princess of these lands, I’m telling you to get out of those gates, and don’t come back.”

Jack expected Gothel to say one last thing, to get the last word in before she left, but her mouth just pressed shut, and she turned on her heel and left. Wow. That must be a stronger compulsion than he ’d realised. 

Pascal croaked impudently after her, but even that couldn ’t make Gothel turn around.

Jack squeezed Rapunzel ’s hand even tighter.

“You alright?” Hiccup asked Rapunzel quietly. 

“Nice, Merida!” Ruffnut said, before Jack could hear Rapunzel’s response. Jack turned, unable to contain himself a moment longer, and wrapped Rapunzel up in the biggest hug he’d ever given anyone.

“You missed the best bit,” he said, mostly for Rapunzel’s benefit. Finally, he was back on familiar ground. Let Rapunzel recover a little while he talked her up. He’d distract everyone from her for a while, and then later, she’d probably talk it all through with Merida, who was much better at helping with Jack. “You know she actually told the old witch she ought to be ashamed of herself?”

“Nice work,” Astrid said, with a proud little smile.

Rapunzel smiled a little, but squeezed Jack ’s hand a little tighter. Hiccup’s hand was on her shoulder, too. 

Suddenly, Rapunzel took a deep, shaky breath and said,  “You know … I think I really did the only thing that could have actually hurt her.”

“What’s that?” Jack asked.

With her free hand, Rapunzel pulled at her hair.  “You saw how she reacted when she saw I cut it. She was more angry at that than … than what I said.”

“I don’t get it,” Tuffnut said. “What was so cool about your hair? Not that it wasn’t kinda awesome that it was that long, but I mean … hair is hair.”

“I don’t think it was,” Rapunzel said. “I think maybe that’s the only reason she kept me all these years. Cutting it … when it changed colour … maybe it lost something that she wanted.”

“What do you think it was?” Ruffnut asked.

“I don’t care,” Rapunzel said, and Jack wasn’t sure if there was a little steel in her voice, or if she was suppressing a little nervous laugh. It could have been either. “I didn’t want it, and now she can’t have it. So it could have been the power to … I don’t know, bring people back from the dead, and I’d still get rid of it.”

“That’s the spirit!” Tuffnut said. “Hey, Hiccup, you actually coming to the feast tonight? Snotlout says you’ll chicken out but I bet him three days of stable duty that you’d be there.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have told me that,” Hiccup said. “I’d stay away just to see you have to sweep horse shit for three days.”

“Don’t you dare,” Merida said. “I’ve seen enough of this miscreant not to let him anywhere near Angus.”

As they argued, Jack turned to Rapunzel, and she gave his hand another quick squeeze. 

“I’m going … to be fine,” she said, trying for a smile. “But I’d sort of like to get back to my painting now.”

“Your wish is my command,” Jack said, letting go of her hand. “Hey, we’re making toast. Anyone want to tease Hiccup inside instead of out here? I’m starving.” That option also had the added benefit of keeping some larger, more heavily-muscled people around if Gothel decided to try anything in the next, oh, half-hour or so.

“Good idea,” Tuffnut said.

Hiccup rolled his eyes.  “Great. I love being bait.”

Jack gave Hiccup his best flirty look and said,  “I’ll make it up to you later.”

Hiccup rolled his eyes, and walked back inside to a chorus of immature noises  — and Jack was a little surprised to note that included Astrid.

“Just get in here and cut more toast,” Hiccup said.

As he did, Jack took a quick detour to ruffle Rapunzel ’s hair one last time and tell her, “You did great, big sister,” and dodge the swipe she aimed at him before he went inside and helped Hiccup. 


	94. First Time for Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: This chapter and the next one were originally one single chapter until this got just … so far away from me.
> 
> Also just a quick note: “Bransle” is pronounced “brawl” and is probably anachronistic for this setting (I think most bransles are around the 15th Century (at least most of bransle music I have sources for was composed around then), where I’ve tried to keep most of my references to 13th and 14th centuries in this story. However, the only 13-14 Century dances I have at quick reference are Italian and French, whereas this story I’ve kept mainly to British with a few Scandinavian nods thrown in. So, uh … pick your inaccuracy, I guess, and I just think “Bransles” is a cool word)

“Dammit, Hiccup!” Snotlout said, elbowing him. “You just cost me three days of free time!”

“Well, Tuffnut told me about it, and I thought, which of you should I catch up on annoying first?” Hiccup retorted, tensing up as he realised that he was letting his mouth run away from him again. Oh, he needed to stop doing that … he was going to end up just like before …

But Snotlout only laughed.  “Ha! Well, it’s kinda refreshing,” he said. “I mean, seeing you at one of these gatherings. I’ve never been to one where you  _ actually _ showed up! ”

They were still milling around the room, waiting for the feast to really begin, but Hiccup already knew that he ’d been seated next to his father with Jack on his other side, for the actual feast section of things. For now, there were musicians and people were dancing in the big clear area, working up their appetites for the food. But Hiccup had never been a dancer, and while he was sort of afraid Jack would try and drag him out to join in, he quickly realised that Jack probably didn’t know the steps to a bransle, or any of the other dances, for that matter, so Hiccup was probably safe there.

Astrid nudged Jack.  “So, we haven’t seen much of you around.”

“Ah, he hates indoors even more than me,” Hiccup said. 

“That’s not possible,” Ruffnut told him.

“It’s true. He tried to stay with me in the hut one of the days when I was … uh … a few days back now.” Hiccup tried to gloss over that quickly before they tried to comment on it. “I thought he was going to fidget so hard he’d propel himself out a window.”

“I was doing my best,” Jack said. 

“I know you were,” Hiccup said. “But if you wanted to be with someone who wasn’t going to find you endlessly amusing, you really shouldn’t have chosen me.”

“You set your chickens on me and threw yourself out a window,” Jack pointed out. “You aren’t exactly coming out of this clean yourself.”

“Alright, one,” Snotlout said, “You two are perfect for each other. But two, he did what and threw himself out a what?”

Jack laughed.  “Oh, Hiccup, you get to tell the chicken story!”

“Jack, every single time I have told that story, it’s been your idea,” Hiccup said. “Don’t pretend like it’s me that wants it told. And please clarify that those two things were not even on the same day, let alone some kind of cause-and-effect.”

“Suddenly, I’m less interested in this story,” Tuffnut said. “But not uninterested, so please continue.”

From past the group, Hiccup spotted Stoick trying, as subtly as a man who stood head and shoulders above a solid three-quarters of the population of any room could, to get Hiccup ’s attention. Hiccup nudged Jack.

“Dad wants a talk,” he said. “I leave the storytelling in your hands. They already know not to trust anything you say, so I won’t warn you about embellishments.”

“Fine,” Jack said. “I wouldn’t make any promises about embellishments anyway.”

He gave Jack a quick kiss before heading over to his father. As he left, Jack started telling the story of the chickens first, with animated hand gestures.

Hiccup walked over to his father. 

“Sorry, Hiccup,” Stoick said. “I know you were in the middle of a conversation.”

“It’s fine,” Hiccup said. “Jack’s got it covered.”

“Good,” Stoick said. “Good.”

“So,” Hiccup said. “You, uh … wanted to talk to me?”

“Oh. Uh, yes,” Stoick said. “Son, we don’t have to talk about it now, but … sometime we’ll have to decide what to do about the Chiefdom …”

“Give it to Astrid,” Hiccup said.

Stoick blinked.  “Are you sure?”

Hiccup nodded.  “Dad, it’s been pretty clear she was better for it since we were kids. She’s worked hard, too. It’s not fair to just take it from her when I can’t even read a map right.”

“I’m sure we could work something out so that the two of you could still …”

“Dad,” Hiccup said. “I really don’t want to be Chief.”

Stoick sighed, and Hiccup felt his chest tighten at how heartbroken his father looked. He pushed his hair back and found himself focusing on a spot on the floor instead of meeting his father ’s eyes.

“And I wanted to say,” Stoick said quietly. “That it’s alright if you don’t want to come back to Berk.”

Oh, Odin, was  _ that _ what his father had been worried about? That if he didn ’t want the Chiefdom he must not want to go back to Berk at all?

Then again  … only a few days ago he would have said that he would never want to go back. The thought still terrified him, like nothing had ever terrified him before.

“Dad … just because I don’t want to be the Chief doesn’t mean I can’t still be involved,” he said. “Advisor or something. Maybe.”

“Don’t just say things to make me happy,” Stoick said. “I can tell it’s not what you really want.”

“No,” Hiccup admitted. What he really wanted was to be just … as he was before. Back at the hut. But to be able to see everyone again. “I mean … it’s been a long time. But things will be better now, right?” 

He met his father ’s eyes for the first time. Stoick held his gaze, still looking deeply uncomfortable. But he said, “It’ll be better.”

And Hiccup really, really, really wanted to believe him.

“Maybe I’ll set up on the edge of the village to start with.” He tried a grin. “You know, somewhere everyone can send me back to when they’ve had enough of me.”

Stoick managed a quick flash of a smile in return.  “Well. Good. I’m sure Astrid will be happy.”

“I’m sure she’d have my kidneys if we did anything else.”

Stoick actually laughed at that, and clapped Hiccup on the back.  “Oh, I remember when that sense of humour drove me up the wall.”

“Give it a week,” Hiccup said, but it was through a giant grin.

“You go and get back to your conversation,” Stoick said. “The feast will start soon. I’ll talk to you then.”

“Sure, Dad,” Hiccup said, and returned to the group.

“So before I can even get out the instructions — hi, Hiccup! — he just goes and jumps! All I could do to catch him before he hit the ground!”

The Berkians were looking at Hiccup like he had grown an extra head, and he looked at Jack.

“So … which part of that are they all so worried about?”

“Not sure,” Jack said. “I might have had to tell them about the flying thing. But, I can’t stress this enough, you jumped out a window.”

“So, all of it, then,” Hiccup said. “Great.” 

“Well, jumping out windows isn’t exactly out of character,” Astrid said. “You did used to go wandering alone in the woods for fun.”

“In my defense,” Hiccup said. “I’m already dead, so hitting the ground wouldn’t actually have …”

“Shh,” Tuffnut told him. “It’s cooler if you don’t say it.”

“You just wish you’d thought of it first,” Ruffnut said.

“My body, though muscular and desirable, is sadly mortal,” Tuffnut said. “Now, if I had devised a clever contraption to fall onto …”

“My mistake. _I_ wish you’d thought of it first.”

Then dinner was announced, and they all had to go and arrange themselves at the table. Up at the head table, Hiccup could sense every glance at him, and every whispered conversation had him convinced that people were talking about him. And why wouldn ’t they be? This dinner was technically in his honour, right? How much had Fergus told everyone?

As they waited for Stoick to cross the room, Fergus leaned over and nudged Hiccup.

“Good job,” he said, with an encouraging smile and nod. “Elinor said you’re doing very well.”

Hiccup wanted to laugh at the innocent joy on Fergus ’s face. “Sorry for making so much trouble for you two,” he said.

“Ah,” Fergus said, waving his hand at Hiccup. “Elinor and I have three terrors and a fine young lady who was, until very recently, a teenager.”

Hiccup snorted, and Elinor said,  “Dear, you’ll need to stop leaning over the Chief’s chair so he can sit down.”

“Yes, dearest heart,” Fergus said, and sat back in his seat, giving Hiccup one last wink. The food was served, and the glasses filled, and Fergus stood up.

“This feast was called by Stoick the Vast, Chief of Berk,” he said. “And I will let him say a few words.”

He sat down, gesturing to Stoick as Stoick rose, giving Hiccup a brief little smile as he did. He cleared his throat and lifted his glass.

“I’ll keep this brief,” he said. “Today we are celebrating happy news.”

Hiccup braced himself and squeezed Jack ’s hand under the table. Just how much was Stoick about to reveal?

“Those of you who need to know what happened, already do. I’m sure that the rumours have taken care of most of the rest of you,” he said, to a ripple of laughter from the audience. “So for a toast, I’ll keep it to this. To family!” 

The toast echoed around the hall, and the High Table started to serve themselves food.

“You, uh. You kept that short for me,” Hiccup said.

“It’s your celebration, too,” Stoick said.

“Thanks.”

They ate dinner, and there was plenty of drinking, and the dancing started up again, and soon Hiccup was feeling overwhelmed by the crowds. It was a strange feeling, that so many people from Berk seemed to be actually laughing at his jokes rather than scoffing at them or telling him they were disrespectful or inappropriate. Tuffnut even seemed happy to have someone willing to spar with him in sarcasm, though Ruffnut expressed the wish that he ’d stayed missing if he was just going to encourage her brother. Even Snotlout’s teasing seemed less barbed than it had when they were young. 

But Hiccup was still one of the first to leave, to some disappointed noises and a chorus of jokes about him being like a wild animal they ’d have to house train again, and then speculation about the activities he would have time for with Jack since he was leaving so early. 

On the way back to the hut, as the ringing in his ears from the music and the clamour of the hall slowly faded, Jack leaned over and nuzzled into his shoulder.

“Good night?” Jack asked.

Hiccup laughed.  “No. It was loud and full of people, and I didn’t even get to build anything, let alone do any risky stunts. But I’m not feeling any worse than when I got there, so does that count?”

“My boyfriend the cheerful one,” Jack said, with a snort. “I see through you. You just don’t want to admit that you’re actually happy.”

Hiccup shrugged. Outside the castle, the conversations seemed a lot less solid than when he was inside.  “Just … still seems a bit too good to be true,” he said.

Jack let go of his hand, and Hiccup looked down sharply, expecting to see Jack stepping away from him to say something significant and intense, but instead Jack had taken his hand away from Hiccup ’s hand so that he could slip it around Hiccup’s waist instead. Hiccup was a little surprised to find that Jack had stopped walking entirely so that he could pull Hiccup close and give him a long, slow kiss.

“I get it,” he said, when their lips finally parted. “But you’re thinking about this too much. Trust me, they’re really just happy to have you back.” He grinned. “I mean, you’re going to argue with them all the time, but that’s just because you’re contrary.”

“Thanks. You’re good at pep talks.”

“There’s the sarcasm,” Jack said.

“You seem to have this idea that I’m only happy when I’m being sarcastic.”

“I haven’t seen you be happy any other way,” Jack said. “It seems like it’s a good ballpark to aim for.”

“You forget,” Hiccup said. “I respond to all emotions with sarcasm.”

“I’m still working on that bit,” Jack said. “It’s only been a few weeks.”

They walked the rest of the way to the hut in each other ’s arms, where they were greeted by a familiar and chilling voice. At Hiccup’s side, Toothless morphed into his larger, scaly form and started to growl.

“Hello, Jackie. Sir Woodsman.”


	95. Horseshoe Nail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello naughty children it's time for antagonist

“Hello, Jackie. Sir Woodsman.”

“No,” Hiccup said, not taking his arm from around Jack. “Not tonight.”

“ _Yes_ , tonight,” Pitch hissed. Actually _hissed_.

Hiccup felt his shoulders rise just a little and his neck pull back away from Pitch, but he tried to hide it, even as Jack ’s arm tensed around him, too. He forced his shoulders down, and forced himself to look Pitch in the face. “No,  _ not _ tonight, ” he said. “Pitch, I am running out of ways to tell you that  _ we aren _ _ ’t buying what you’re selling _ . ”

“Let’s just go inside,” Jack said. “It’s easier to ignore him through a door.”

“So, thanks, but no threats and vague hints today. Try again some other time,” Hiccup said, and went to walk to the hut door.

“Oh,” Pitch said. His voice still had an edge to it, but his smile had returned, that one that might have been disarming if it weren’t for all the teeth, and his tone had changed to match it. “Oh, in that we agree. Concrete threats only, promise.” He stretched out his hand.

Hiccup looked at the hand and then looked up at Pitch.  “Well?”

“Well,” Pitch said. “For the actual _threat_ part of this conversation, you’ll have to come with me.”

Hiccup glanced at Jack.  “And … why exactly would I do that?”

“Because you want to indulge my dramatic streak,” Pitch said. “And because I thought you might want to go and see Berk … since it’s been so long.”

“Hiccup, don’t,” Jack said.

“I don’t really care what you’ve done to some buildings,” Hiccup said, pressing down the anxiety that had started to bubble up in his stomach.

“You don’t understand,” Pitch said. “The fact that they’re all here now is rather the point.”

Hiccup could see Jack freeze, and he knew — _knew_ — that Pitch was only saying this because he thought it would get inside Hiccup’s head. Pitch wasn’t a good negotiator, he was just a practiced manipulator, and Hiccup hadn’t been nearly secretive enough about Berk being a sore spot. 

“We’re not interested,” Jack said, his fingers digging into Hiccup’s arm. Toothless had started to growl, pressing his shoulder into Hiccup’s leg to remind Hiccup he was there.

Hiccup knew that was the smart thing to do, the safe thing to do, but instead he put up a hand and said,  “Wait.”

Pitch ’s sudden grin was like a stab through Hiccup’s heart, and the pressure of Jack’s hand increased.

“Hiccup,” Jack said.

“I’m still not taking the deal,” Hiccup said. “But you can, uh … give me your _pitch_.”

“Joke noted,” Pitch said. “Come. We’ll be back within the hour.” And he held his hand out again, for Hiccup to take.

Hiccup looked at Jack and hoped to convey with his eyes everything that he didn ’t want to say in front of Pitch — that he knew this was foolish, and he knew that Pitch was about to try to deceive them, but at least if he went, there would be a slim chance that they’d be just a little more prepared. That he knew that last part was just an excuse, but he also knew that he’d never be comfortable if he didn’t at least know what Pitch was offering now.

He didn ’t know if Jack got the message or not, but he didn’t so much as lessen his grip on Hiccup’s arm as Hiccup put his hand in Pitch’s.

Pitch stepped into the shadows with the two boys and the Grimalkin in tow, and just like that, they were standing outside the burning remains of Berk.

Hiccup knew there hadn ’t been anybody there when he’d left, and that it was just buildings, but the sight of Berk burned left him with a sick feeling and a lump in his throat anyway. The cool pressure of Jack’s hand was still on his arm, and he decided to keep his eyes on Pitch rather than looking at Berk. He just hoped that his face wasn’t showing too much of what he was thinking, because Pitch would have almost certainly noticed.

“About what I expected,” Hiccup said, for once glad that his natural response to stress was dry humour.

“I won’t bore you with all the details,” Pitch said. “Here’s the important parts. Nicholas St. North and my … the West Wind …” Here he paused, as though there was something else he wanted to say, but was deciding against it. “… have sat down to negotiate. This obviously means nothing to you, but I can’t say it’s a development that I appreciate.”

“Wait,” Jack said. “Isn’t the West Wind your boss?”

“I am her _general_ ,” Pitch said, a dangerous emphasis in his voice. “But if you insist on putting it in those terms, then I suppose ‘boss’ is … at least not _inaccurate_.”

“You fairies really have trouble with lies, don’t you?” Hiccup asked. “That must hurt.”

“Are we done? Hm?” Pitch gave them an expectant look. “And you might have guessed, but the West Wind and I are not … on good terms, currently.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious,” Jack said casually, and Hiccup tried not to laugh, remembering that he and Jack only really knew that because Jack had been hidden in North’s closet at the time.

Pitch shrugged.  “I suppose it’s an open secret,” he said. “So. The West Wind gets her deal with North — or The Man in the Moon, it’s so difficult to keep all these proxies straight — and she takes the whole woods. Including everything I have worked to build here.”

“Worked to build for _her_ ,” Jack pointed out. “That was your mandate, right?”

“It might have been,” Pitch said. “But things _changed_ when she abandoned us. It has been more than two hundred years, and these are _my_ woods.”

He seemed to realise that his manner had become perhaps too forceful, straightened up and stepped back from the others, then coughed and smoothed his hair back over his ear.

“You understand, of course,” Pitch said.

“No,” Hiccup said. “I mean, I understand your position. I just don’t understand what it has to do with me.”

“You’re not planning to attack the _West Wind_ ,” Jack said, his voice soft. “You don’t mean that.”

“North has no skin in this game,” Pitch said. “He will stay out of the fight. If the West Wind wins, nothing changes. If I win, well, he gets to keep his half of the forest. But he cannot ally with me, so he will do nothing and commit no troops. And even the West Wind cannot stand up to an army. We will now find out how many value the one who has _been there_ for them all these years, or some words they spoke more years ago than even human stories can recall.”

“And for that you want …” Hiccup looked down at Toothless, “One Grimalkin.”

“Not _one Grimalkin_ ,” Pitch said. “If all you and your Grimalkin meant to me was a single fighter, I would have given up on your first refusal. No — your Grimalkin here represents something.” Pitch reached down and went to give Toothless a scratch, but the way Toothless bared his teeth apparently made him think better of it. “He’s the only Grimalkin to ever run away for more than a day or two before they were forced to return or caught. And his master is _human_. No offense, of course,” he said, spreading his hands. “But Grimalkins have some standing, you understand, and one being in the hands of a human and apparently irretrievable, well …”

“It’s a power play,” Hiccup said. “You need me to help prove you aren’t a screw-up. But you still haven’t told me why I should play along.”

“As the attacking force,” Pitch said, “I am in the somewhat coveted position of having some small control over where exactly the battle is fought.”

“The West Wind promised that human settlements wouldn’t be involved.”

“I highly doubt that,” Pitch said, as though disappointed with Hiccup’s lack of understanding. “Please. She wouldn’t have made that a _unilateral_ statement. No, what I expect happened was that she declared that she had not prepared a battlefield that would be in the way, but that if any humans should _happen_ to get in the way, or if she should _happen_ to not be able to fight somewhere convenient, then accidents are accidents, nothing to be done about it.”

Hiccup tried to think of something that he could say that wouldn ’t confirm what Pitch was saying. But in the time it took him to think of it, Pitch had smirked, and said, “Thought so.” 

He walked around behind Hiccup and Jack, a sinuous motion that made the skin on the back of Hiccup ’s neck crawl, even as he reminded himself that it was another tactic to get them nervous.

“So,” Pitch continued. “Here’s the threat part of the conversation you were so eager to get to.” He pressed his fingertips together. “You and the Grimalkin join me, Sir Woodsman, and the battle will take place somewhere nice and convenient, where there won’t be any casualties. Don’t join me, and I will make sure that Castle Dunbroch’s grounds are the very _centre_ of that battlefield. The fighting will be in the corridors of the castle if it needs to be.”

Pitch was leaning in close again, and Hiccup leaned back, feeling his teeth clench. Was that  … something Pitch could actually do?

“How is that for a threat?” Pitch asked.

“I’ll take it under consideration,” Hiccup said. “We’re going back to the hut now.”

“Certainly,” Pitch said. “But this offer won’t last forever. You have until this time tomorrow to accept or decline. I won’t be difficult to find. Just … wander into the woods.”

He took Hiccup ’s hand again. A moment later they were back at the hut, and Pitch was gone.

“He’s just trying to get inside your head,” Jack said, but he didn’t have the conviction that he’d had before Pitch had arrived.

Hiccup didn ’t respond until he’d opened the door to the hut and all three of them were inside, the door closed behind them.

“You were right,” Hiccup said, sitting on his bed and putting his head in his hands. “He knows exactly how to hit where it hurts.”

Jack sat down next to him and gently took his hands, squeezing them.  “Hiccup …”

“Can he do it?” Hiccup asked.

“He’s just trying …” Jack began, but Hiccup interrupted him.

“Please, Jack. No avoiding the question, and don’t lie because you think I’m going to do something I shouldn’t. I need … if I’m going to find a way around this, I need to know. If Pitch wanted, could the battle happen here?”

Jack looked deeply unhappy. Finally, after a long moment of thought, he said,  “I think he could. Some fairies couldn’t come onto the grounds uninvited, and the Dunbrochs could kick them off if it were just one or two without a solid purpose, but … if it’s for a battle, and the West Wind never formally gave over total ownership to the Dunbrochs, and it’s on the behest of the West Wind and one of her Generals …” he trailed off.

“Alright,” Hiccup said.

“We can move everyone. Again,” Jack said.

Hiccup squeezed Jack ’s hands back. There were a thousand thoughts going through his head. How much time would Pitch give them? Was Toothless really so important that he’d just give up a whole day to let Hiccup make a decision? And the villages that had arrived after Berk weren’t in good shape. Was it even possible to move them?

“Hey,” Jack said, snapping Hiccup out of his thoughts and making him look up. “I … think I should go see North,” he said. “Maybe he’ll know what Pitch is capable of. He’ll definitely know if the Dunbrochs have the authority to prevent the battle. Then we’ll know for sure, right?”

Hiccup nodded.  “You should do that,” he said numbly. Jack should. It was a good idea. It was better to do it sooner, rather than later, while there was still plenty of time.

Jack leaned in and kissed Hiccup, tenderly and almost hesitantly, as if this was somehow not the time for kissing. Hiccup wanted to return it with more force and passion, but managed only desperate.

“I’ll be back,” Jack said, when he finally pulled away. “You should … warn the castle. Don’t do anything … else … until I come back.”

“I know. I promise,” Hiccup said, and he watched Jack, with a regretful glance, leave the hut.

He fell over sideways onto the bed, knowing he really should remove his leg, but putting it off for just another few minutes, and then a few minutes more. 

He ’d get ready for bed properly when he’d come up with a solution to this problem.


	96. The Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say how much I deeply appreciate all your comments. They are my life and my fuel. Without your encouragement, I probably wouldn’t have written this.  
> Take that last part as you will.

Jack walked out into the woods without using the wind like he usually would, and not heading towards North ’s mound. First, he doubted he had any goodwill left with North to bargain with, and second, what did North care about Hiccup or the humans? He only sort of cared about Jack because of pity, and pity didn’t buy a lot of help in a situation like this.

No. Jack was looking for Pitch.

And he found him very quickly.

“Ah, Sir … oh. How unexpected. Hello, Jackie. Here without your boyfriend?”

Jack ’s eyes narrowed. “I’m a changeling. You know when it’s me. Don’t try to be cute.”

“Alright, alright. Just thought you’d appreciate it if I played along.” Pitch held up his hands placatingly, but Jack didn’t feel placated at all. “So. You came alone. Going to try and wring more information out of me so your boyfriend can make his decision?”

“Something like that,” Jack said, leaning against a tree and trying to act casual. “Of course, he could just refuse, and let your army get crushed. You’re grasping at straws, and you know it. You don’t have enough followers to beat the West Wind unless more of them defect. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”

“I did say that,” Pitch said. “Not in so many words, of course, but I don’t believe I tried to _deceive_ you on that front. The question is, of course, not whether it will be satisfying to watch me fail. It is whether you are willing to accept the casualties.”

“So, what was Rapunzel’s hair supposed to do?”

“I’m sorry?” Pitch looked genuinely confused.

“Rapunzel. Gothel’s … whatever she thinks Rapunzel was.”

“Ah. Her charge. Yes, I know of her. Gothel was … displeased with her.”

“Seemed that way. So what did her hair do, before she cut it off?”

“A powerful regeneration magic,” Pitch said. “Raised in her by Mother Gothel. An incentive to join this conflict on our side. Even fairies tend to get squeamish at the idea of being injured or killed. The girl could have helped prevent that.”

“Oops,” Jack said.

“Yes. Oops, indeed. I dare say it has made your boyfriend that much more _necessary._ ”

“You won’t fight if you aren’t going to win,” Jack said. “I know your kind.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong,” Pitch said. “North might have a little more leeway with his precious master in exile, but I know what it is to make something, to shape it, and own it, and then have it just … taken. The West Wind is no constant like the Sun or the Moon, or even the night,” he gestured to himself. “And I have had _enough._ So is it really so hard to believe that I would be willing to die fighting rather than have everything taken from me _again?_ ”

Jack saw again a little of that rage, and that sincerity that he ’d seen when Pitch had encountered him in the woods after Hiccup’s previous rejection.

“I believe you,” he said quietly.

“Good.”

“Then,” Jack said, gripping his staff tight, and offering one last fervent hope that Hiccup would find it in his heart, somehow, to forgive him, “I have a question.”

“Go on.”

“Which is more useful to you,” Jack asked. “One Grimalkin and master … and whatever it is they represent … or a counter for the West Wind?”

Pitch gave him a blank look.  “You are … not serious.”

Jack knew it was a long shot. The wind never listened to him when the West Wind came on her storms, and even if that wasn ’t the case, he was only a changeling. His power was minuscule compared to hers, and he’d be a fool to try and convince anyone otherwise. But there might just be something …

“Not directly,” he said, and touched a tree. Frost spread over it, and the on the ground underneath his feet, a cool mist started to form. “Maybe I won’t be much use on the battlefield itself. But you want to cover troop movements? You want me to fix things so that she doesn’t know exactly who’s left and when? You want some last-minute defections under the cover of fog that she’ll have to work just a _little_ harder to realise isn’t natural?”

And with a mix of exultation and utter, sickening dread, Jack saw Pitch think about this  … and he knew he had his in.

“You’ll not be much use in the battle.”

“One extra anything wouldn’t be,” Jack said. “We’re not talking about a battle advantage. You’re pinning your hopes on a possible morale boost. Well, I’m offering that and a tactical assist.”

“Ah,” Pitch said. “So the condition is that I … _don_ _’t_ get my Grimalkin back.”

“Leave the humans out of this,” Jack said. “That means _all_ of them. Even him.”

Pitch considered this for another moment.  “And what if he comes to me and takes me up on that offer?”

“Refuse him,” Jack said. “This is strictly an either-or deal. You lost something that’s a pretty big boost to your army, and you can’t replace it with just a show of theoretical power. I’m clearly the better choice.”

“Done, then,” Pitch said, and held out his hand. “Welcome to the team.”

Jack only hesitated the barest moment before shaking Pitch ’s hand.

Fairies, and changelings, too, were subtly affected by their official master. The longer they had been servants, the more pronounced the effect. Jack had been expecting some sort of a shift, some inkling that something had changed, and that he was different now, somehow. But apart from the slight tingle left in his hand after Pitch had shaken it, Jack felt exactly as he had before.

But then, he was made by Mother Gothel. Did that mean this had technically been his  ‘side’ all along?

“Well,” Pitch said. “Now that you’re here, we’ve only got until tomorrow. I hope you weren’t expected back at the Castle. We’ve got too much work to put those powers to, though, to let you leave now. So you’ll be working all night, I’m afraid. Come on. I’ll explain as we go.”

With a last glance back at Castle Dunbroch, or rather, at Hiccup ’s hut, Jack left with Pitch.


	97. Oh Shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for those of you who know my work and were patiently waiting for me to drop the real angst anvil.  
> *thunk*

In the morning, Hiccup woke up to find that Jack still wasn ’t there. The bed felt empty without him, even with Toothless sprawled across him, apparently enjoying having Hiccup all to himself again. At first, it felt lonely, but after a few seconds, lonely morphed into panic. Jack had said he’d be back. He wouldn’t have said that if he didn’t mean it.

So that meant something had happened to him. What if Pitch had found him on the way to or from North ’s mound? What if it was North who had kept Jack? Hiccup didn’t know what North might want with him, but he also didn’t know much about North in general. Might North have something that he’d keep Jack for? Hiccup had no way of knowing.

He put his hand on Toothless ’s side to feel the black cat purr. It was a calming noise, but right now it only helped a little. He skipped breakfast — not like he needed to eat, technically, and his stomach was still churning with stress, even as he tried to convince himself that Jack had probably just been held up talking to North, and would be back any moment now.

At the Castle, the morning was progressing slowly. Most people seemed to be a little the worse for drink after the previous evening ’s festivities. Toothless stayed in his larger form, rather than jumping into Hiccup’s arms as his small, cat form, but Hiccup was too tired, and that was officially close to last on the list of things he had to worry about. It seemed, though, that most of the castle was getting used to the big cat, because he didn’t draw many eyes. Hiccup looked for Stoick first in the planning rooms.

Stoick didn ’t seem to be that affected after the night before, nor did Astrid, though Snotlout was conspicuously absent.

“Morning,” he said.

“Morning, son,” Stoick said, looking up from the scattered lists on the table.

“Morning,” Astrid said. Then her eyes narrowed. “You look like hell. And I saw you last night — you barely touched your drink. What happened?”

Hiccup sighed. He thought about trying to cover things up, but this was officially bigger than he was. They deserved to know what happened to Berk.  “Pitch Black,” he said. “Pitch Black happened.”

He briefly outlined the conversation, but when it came to explaining what Pitch wanted, he found that he couldn ’t bring himself to give them the exact details. The thought that Astrid might guess he’d even  _ contemplated _ joining Pitch himself  … He left it at telling them that Pitch wanted him to give up Toothless, and hoped that they didn’t notice the omission, or chalked up his evasion to just nerves.

“But you’re not giving him Toothless … right?” Astrid asked when he’d finished.

“Not in a thousand years,” Hiccup said, and reminded himself that technically it was true. Still, the thought of being separated from Toothless gave his voice a sort of desperate vehemence that seemed to convince Astrid and Stoick enough.

“Then we dig in,” Stoick said. “Everyone gets into the castle. We barricade everything. Plant traps and stakes around the grounds. Maybe Pitch is crazy enough to make his army fight through a moat of stakes, but at least that way we can make the war quick, and hopefully nothing will get inside. Castle Dunbroch was a fort before it was a castle. We can defend it.”

“We … can’t move everybody, can we?” Hiccup said.

Stoick let out a heavy sigh.  “No,” he said. “We can’t. Not by the end of the day. If we were still in the woods, Pitch would just move the battle to where we are, correct?”

Hiccup nodded.  “That was the threat.”

Stoick brought a fist down on the table.  “We haven’t evacuated, we’ve put ourselves in a fox hole.”

“I …” Hiccup said, but trailed off. Everything was starting to come home to him now. Every single mistake he’d made along the way.

“I’m going to get their Majesties,” Astrid said. “They need to know about this. Hiccup, you come, too. It’ll be easier for you to explain.”

“Do it,” Stoick said. He looked up. “Thank goodness you’re an early riser, Hiccup. If we’ve only got until tonight …”

“Guess I learned one thing from you,” Hiccup said, his mouth still working faster than his mind. “Hey … you know we’re dealing with the West Wind, right? They might not care about traps. Or walls. Or …”

“Hiccup,” Stoick said, walking over and putting his hands on Hiccup’s shoulders. “There’s no time to be worrying about that. The only option we have is to try our best to fortify anyway.”

“But …”

“Hiccup, this is what being Chief is about. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is to make sure you’re doing _something_.”

Hiccup put his hand on Toothless ’s head, and nodded, not trusting himself to speak until his heart calmed down.

Yes. His father was right. Sometimes the only thing you could do was make the best choice available, even if it was a bad one.

He swallowed. Well. Having a family again was nice while it lasted, he supposed.

“Got it, Dad,” he said.

“Let’s go,” Astrid said. “Half the castle’s hungover, so we have to get started early.”

“Sure,” Hiccup said.

As they left the room, Astrid glanced behind them, gave it half a corridor, then asked.  “So, what’s the last thing?”

“Last thing?” Hiccup asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Yeah. Hiccup, you changed a lot in five years, but not _that_ much. There’s one more thing that’s worrying you, that you aren’t telling us.”

Hiccup should have known better than to think he could have kept anything from her. But he said,  “Jack went missing last night. He was going to go talk to North and get more information, but he hasn’t come back.”

Because that was true. Guess there had been two last things, not one.

“Oh,” Astrid said softly, and flicked her head to get her fringe out of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Hiccup. I’m sure he’s fine, just … delayed.”

“Thanks,” Hiccup said. “I appreciate the thought.”

“Hey,” Astrid said, putting a hand on his arm. “He’s going to be fine. Tell you what, we’ll carry this message, then I’ll make an excuse for you, if you want to … take an hour or so. Just make sure that he’s not anywhere nearby the castle.”

Hiccup froze.  “Astrid, you don’t …”

“It’s an order,” Astrid said. “As future Chief of Berk, the safety of the castle is my job, and you’re only going to be in the way if you can’t get your mind off Jack. So you take Toothless and go look for him.”

Hiccup felt his heart sink, because he was going to take her up on it. He had to. But it wasn ’t going to be for the reasons she thought.

“I’ll …”

“Just promise me you’ll come back this time,” Astrid said. “I don’t think your Dad would forgive me if I let you go and you didn’t come back.”

“I’ve got Toothless,” Hiccup said. “He’ll protect me.” And that wasn’t a lie, but it felt like it should have been.

Astrid nodded.  “Alright. I trust him not to do anything foolish, at least,” she said, reaching down and giving Toothless a scratch under the chin. “So, let’s go tell their Majesties.”

Hiccup recounted the story again and Fergus and Elinor hurried off to join Stoick. It seemed that everyone in the castle was in agreement about the necessity of fortifying.

As they left, Astrid put her hand on Hiccup ’s shoulder. “Now’s your chance,” she said. “I’ll say that I sent you on an errand.”

Hiccup put his hand on her shoulder.  “I wish I’d tried harder when I was still living in Berk. You’re a better friend than …” he wanted to say ‘than I deserve’, but that would have been too suspicious, and probably a little weird. “Than I thought at the time,” he finished.

“Well, we’ve all got things we’re sorry for back then,” Astrid said. “You sure you’re alright.”

“Sorry. Just … worried about Jack.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just come back before I have to cover for you again.”

And Astrid left him in the corridor.

  
  


***

  
  


Hiccup stopped just outside the gate to kneel next to Toothless, who put his head on Hiccup ’s shoulder. Hiccup wrapped his arms around the big cat and held him for a moment.

“I’m sorry, bud,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

Toothless made a throaty noise and turned his head to rest it more against Hiccup ’s head, and Hiccup took that to mean that Toothless understood.

“I’m not leaving you, bud,” Hiccup promised. “We’re in this together, alright?”

Toothless made the noise again, and Hiccup stood up. He sniffed, hard, and scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. The last thing he wanted to do was be crying when he talked to Pitch.

He wasn ’t too far into the woods when Pitch stepped out from behind a tree.

“Ah,” Pitch said. “I was expecting you.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “I know. Save it. You win.” He spread his arms. “I’ll do it. I’m on your team, or whatever.”

Pitch ’s face split into a victorious grin, and he said, “Oh, your dramatic streak would have been so nice.”

Hiccup went to respond, but then the words registered.  “Would … have been?”

Pitch crooked a finger, beckoning someone, and Jack stepped out from behind another tree.

If Hiccup hadn ’t spent days just looking at Jack, trying to drink everything about him in, he might not have noticed. His skin was still the pale, slightly blue-ish shade it had always been, but it somehow looked sallower, the shadows a little deeper and more pronounced. He looked haunted.

“I’m sorry, Hiccup,” he said. “You didn’t deserve to lose your family again.”

“Your castle is safe,” Pitch said. “So don’t worry on that account. It will be sad not to have the complete set again,” he said, gesturing to Toothless. “But I feel like I got a fair deal. Come, Jackie. We’ve got errands to run.”

He put his hand on Jack ’s back, and the both of them disappeared.


	98. The Competition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They say to get a PG rating you can still include one f-bomb. I chose to use mine wisely.

Crying alone in the woods for the better part of half an hour the day before a fairy invasion might not have been the best idea, but really, what was there left out there that could hurt Hiccup any worse?

When he finished, he felt frayed and wrung out, like a dishcloth used to clean up after one of the Castle Dunbroch feasts.

Toothless put a paw on his leg, and made a questioning noise.

Hiccup wiped his nose on his sleeve and, still shaking, stood up. Well. That was it, then. He ’d run out of stupid decisions, so it was time for something crazy.

He didn ’t bother cleaning off his face. No time for that. No need, really. He’d draw attention no matter what he did, and being  _ dirty _ was laughable when he was already the dead boy with a pet fairy cat. 

So fuck that. 

He walked back to the castle barely feeling his feet, his head near to bursting with plans. It was strange, how clearly he found himself weighing up the options. This was important, that didn ’t matter. This wouldn’t work, this might have a chance …

Toothless seemed to match his mood as he walked, keeping perfect pace by his side, eyes forward, 

He walked into the castle, and then to the planning room, where the little planning group had expanded to include Fergus, Elinor, Merida, and Snotlout. They all looked up as he entered.

“Hiccup!” Stoick said. “You’re back. What …” Then his face darkened.

Hiccup wondered if he should feel a little impressed that even Elinor looked a little aghast. After all, she ’d even managed to keep composure when she’d first met him and he had an arrow sticking out of his chest.

“Situation’s changed,” he said.

“Uh,” Snotlout said. “Not that I get freaked out. But is anyone else freaked out right now?”

“Hiccup, dear,” Elinor said, “Would you like something to …?”

“No, thanks,” Hiccup said. He walked over to the table and leaned on it. “So. I told you all that Pitch wanted Toothless. The part that I left out was that Toothless and I are a package deal. Grimalkin and Master. He wanted me to betray you. But apparently Jack also had something he wanted, because _without even asking_ ,” Hiccup said, a little surprised at the anger in his voice, especially given that he’d been just about to do the exact same thing Jack had done, “Jack decided that he was going to save me the trouble and take the deal himself.”

He saw the glances that went around the table, and knew that there would be a lot of explaining later, and probably a lot of work for Jack to regain their trust, but that was a problem he ’d deal with later. For now, they needed to know the truth, so that they’d go along with his instructions. 

“So,” Hiccup said. “Good news is, the deal still stands, and the castle is no longer about to be a battleground for half the fairies in the woods. Bad news is, I’m going to see the leader of the other half of the fairies in the woods to see if there’s anything I can do about Jack.”

“Hiccup,” Fergus said. “Elinor, dearest?” He seemed completely out of his depth.

“Perhaps we should at least discuss strategy,” Elinor suggested, calmly. “After all …”

“Good idea,” Hiccup said. “I don’t know a lot about Nicholas St. North, so you’re going to have to tell me everything you can about him. I need to know what I’m talking about when I get there. You should probably keep going with the fortifications, and barricade everyone in the Castle itself anyway, just in case something goes wrong. And to keep people busy. You’re right, Dad, they need to feel like they’re doing something. We should be safe now. But just in case.”

“Seems … like you’ve thought this through,” Fergus said, glancing at Elinor and Stoick.

“Mostly,” Hiccup said.

“You forgot one thing,” Astrid said, folding her arms.

“Yeah,” Merida said. “You forgot the part where you’re taking us with you.”

“Yeah!” Snotlout said. “You can’t just go off and not take us with you!”

“Someone needs to stay back and organise the defenses,” Hiccup said.

“Mum and Dad can do that,” Merida said. “Right?”

“Sure, sweetie, but …” Fergus began, but Merida didn’t appear to have listened after receiving the answer in the affirmative.

“Well, then,” she said. “Astrid, will the three of us go?”

“Are you kidding?” Astrid asked. “Fishlegs and the twins would never forgive me if we left without them. All _six_ of us are coming.”

“I’m going, too,” Stoick said.

“Dad, Fergus and Elinor will need all the help they can get,” Hiccup pointed out. “Besides, your job is Berk. You can’t go running off after just one …”

“I’m …” Stoick said, then Astrid put her hand on his arm.

“I’ve got it under control,” she said. “He’s right, it’s going to take a lot of people to barricade up the castle. Berk needs at least one of us here, and you’re the best choice.”

Stoick sighed, and rubbed his eyes. He took a moment to speak, and when he did, his voice was thick.  “Hiccup,” he said. “You better come back this time.”

“Don’t worry,” Hiccup said darkly. “I’m planning to.” After all, he had to survive long enough to give Jack a nice, long piece of his mind.

“Then it’s settled,” Astrid said. “Snotlout, go round up the others.” 

“Hiccup, come with me,” Merida said. “There’s something we have to do before we go.”

“Wait,” Stoick said, and crossed the room. He picked Hiccup up and wrapped him in a hug that was, somehow, even more crushing than the one he’d given Hiccup when they’d been reunited. “I’m proud of you, son.”

Hiccup put his arms around his father, too, but didn ’t squeeze, for fear that if he did he might end up clinging to his father and not letting go. “Thanks, Dad,” he said, and tried to forget what Stoick had said for now. He’d thought he’d cried himself dry before coming back from the woods, but now the tears were threatening again.

“Never let it be said that a true Berkian let someone they love go without a fight,” Stoick said, and put Hiccup down. “Astrid, he had better come back.”

“If I have to drag him myself,” Astrid promised.

To Hiccup ’s surprise, Merida led him down past the castle kitchens, to the well and trough outside. She pulled up a bucket out of the well and handed it to Hiccup. “Wash your face off,” she said. “You look like I tied you to Angus and dragged you through the woods behind me.”

Hiccup did so, a little mechanically. After all, they were going to negotiate. Walking into Castle Dunbroch looking like a mess was one thing, walking into a fairy mound like that was something completely different.

As he scooped water onto his face and scrubbed at the tear tracks, Astrid joined them.

“So,” she said. “Everyone else was pretty much ready to go as soon as we mentioned the possibility. How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” Hiccup said.

“Uh-huh.” Astrid didn’t sound convinced. “So, what’s the real plan?”

“I told you,” Hiccup said. “Go to North. See what we can do to get Jack back.”

“I got that bit,” Astrid said. “I wanna know what you think you’re gonna offer North in exchange, though. Fairies are big on bargains.”

“I was hoping to get some advice from Elinor on that,” Hiccup said. “I don’t know what he wants. The only thing I can think is that he might want the same thing as Pitch, for me and Toothless to sign on with him. But I don’t think Pitch was lying when he said North would keep out of the fight. So that probably won’t work.”

“Well, good,” Astrid said, and Hiccup rubbed the water out of his eyes in time to see her fold her arms. “Because I’m not taking you there just to have you do the same damn fool thing Jack just did.”

“Right,” Hiccup said. “Acceptable?” he asked, looking up at Merida.

“Well, it’s better than it was,” she said. “S’pose your hair’ll dry on the way.”

“There you are!” came a shout from around the corner, and Rapunzel, a little paint-splattered, rushed around the corner. “Hiccup, I saw you coming back from the woods! You looked awful, what’s wrong?”

Pascal croaked at him, echoing the question.

“You’ve got paint all over you,” Hiccup pointed out.

“I may have sorta dropped my brush. And the palette. But that’s not important!”

“Jack …” Hiccup said, not knowing how to explain to Rapunzel exactly what had happened. He looked down at the bucket and over at the well, instead of meeting Rapunzel’s eyes.

“What did he do?” Rapunzel asked, and Hiccup’s hands clenched when he heard the fear in her voice.

“Played the hero,” Merida said simply. “Pitch has him.”

Rapunzel ’s face dropped, her mouth opening and her hands almost going to her chest but not quite, as though she got halfway through the movement and didn’t know if she wanted to continue it. 

“We’re going to get him back,” Hiccup said.

Rapunzel bit her lip.  “I … do you want …”

“We’re taking the crowd from Berk,” Merida said. “You should stay here and see if Mum needs anything. Castle might get a bit busy today.”

“If … you think so.” Her voice was small. Hiccup sympathised — Rapunzel probably wasn’t the best choice to go deal with fairies, and she _was_ best placed to help out around the Castle. But he wouldn’t have wanted to be staying back either.

“We’ll get him back,” Merida said.

Rapunzel seemed to hesitate, then walked over and wrapped her arms around Hiccup, holding him tight.

“Sorry,” she said. “You looked like you needed a hug.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said, returning it, holding her as tightly as she held him this time. “We’ll get him back.”

“I know you will,” Rapunzel said.

Then Hiccup felt another set of arms around him, and his vision was obscured by Merida ’s hair, so he guessed that Merida was hugging the both of them. Then a third pair of arms, and Hiccup, to his surprise, realised that Astrid had joined the hug as well.

It was only a few seconds before Hiccup had to try and worm his way out of the hug before he accidentally choked on red curls.  “Alright,” he said. “Can’t spend too much time here.”

“Let’s go,” Astrid said. “We’re probably keeping the others waiting anyway.”

“Good luck,” Rapunzel said, nervously, as the three of them waved her goodbye on their way to the front foyer to collect the others.


	99. Negotiations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you know what I said about trying to keep the worldbuilding fairly accurate? Turns out that doesn’t really matter to me when I get the opportunity to give Aster Aussie slang. Call it national pride.   
> Also I’ll leave you folks to decide if the elves lick the biscuits in this continuity.

To Hiccup ’s surprise, they were joined not only by the others from Berk at the foyer of the castle, but Aster as well.

“Heard you talking to Rapunzel,” he said by way of explanation. “I’m not much at negotiating, but I can stand back and look impressive if you need me to. And I know fairies, a bit.”

“Alright,” Hiccup said, secretly glad that the woodsman was coming with them. He’d not had time to properly quiz Elinor, and if Jack was right, Aster might well be the next best thing, for all that he pretended not to have anything to do with fairies.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Snotlout asked. “Let’s go!”

“Want me to lead the way?” Aster asked.

Hiccup nodded. He had a vague idea where the mound was, but if Aster knew how to get there, then he was happy to let Aster lead the way.

“Never thought I’d be living in a fairy tale,” Ruffnut sighed. “Knight in shining armour, riding to rescue his beloved…”

“Are you volunteering to be the horse? You have a face like one,” Tuffnut responded.

This resulted in a brief shoving match, which Hiccup tried to ignore.

“Somehow thought a fairy rescue mission would’ve been dignified,” Aster grumbled. “More fool me, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “Dignified isn’t really a strong suit here.” He hesitated. “Gonna say you told me so?”

“Nah,” Aster said. “Not big on ‘I-told-you-so’. Maybe when you’re looking a bit less like the proverbial cut snake.”

Hiccup didn ’t know what the proverbial cut snake looked like, but Aster’s tone told him everything he needed to know about the sentiment behind it.

“Besides. I didn’t really think I’d see the day when Jack had quite so many people willing to go and dig him out of trouble like this.”

“You came, too,” Hiccup pointed out.

“Yeah. Well, you did bring bodyguards. By the way — how long ago did you say you left Berk? Because whatever they feed kids there, you clearly didn’t get enough of it.” He shook his head, and glanced back at Snotlout. “Built like brick shithouses, every one of them.”

Despite himself, Hiccup snorted.

“Hey! That’s better!” Aster said. “Listen, North isn’t what I’d call good people. He’s no Pitch Black, but he’s not exactly the Dunbrochs, either. Best not to go in too tense, right?”

“Right,” Hiccup said.

“You’ve got a plan, right?”

“I have … the next best thing to one,” Hiccup said. “Tell me more about North and I might even have a real one.”

“You’re right. Let someone else be the Chief. You’re rubbish at this.” 

Nevertheless, Aster started talking, about North and filling Hiccup in on fairy rules and customs. Some of it Hiccup already knew, and some of it he expected that he really  _ ought _ to have known, given how close he ’d lived to fairies all his life. 

“And … that’s about all we have time for, because we’re here,” Aster said. “Hope that plan formed.”

Hiccup made a little noncommittal shrugging motion.

The mound didn ’t look like somewhere someone lived. For a start, if Hiccup hadn’t known it was there he might have never spotted it. It was just a hole in the ground, covered with a stone door.

“Little help?” Hiccup asked. 

“We’re gonna be cursed,” Snotlout said. “This door says cursed all over it.”

“Good thing I can’t read, then,” Tuffnut said, as he joined Ruffnut and Fishlegs in grabbing the sides of the door and pulling it open.

“There’s got to be another way to do that,” Hiccup said. “Jack used to go in all the time, and there’s no way he’d lift that on his own.”

“Might be for fairies,” Aster said.

Hiccup gave him a look.

Aster held his hands up.  “Sorry, sorry. I know he’s touchy about that. I’m not saying he’s like them. All I’m saying is that he probably doesn’t have to do this the heavy lifting way.”

The door thudded open, and Hiccup peered in. There was a little staircase leading down, and some sort of light source down there. Light source was a good sign  — it meant people came past regularly enough to bother maintaining it.

“Right,” he said, and led the way down the stairs, Toothless close to him just in case he slipped, or there was something nasty waiting at the bottom. As they passed the threshold, Toothless’s ears went back and he whined.

“What’s that, bud?” Hiccup asked.

Toothless just whined again, but he kept moving forward, so whatever it was, Hiccup didn ’t think it was too dangerous. Was it just that he was … well, he was neutral now, but he’d been one of Pitch’s creatures for a long time. Was there some magical thing that made entering North’s mound uncomfortable for him?

Had it been the same for Jack?

At the bottom of the stairs, Hiccup paused for a moment, as he realised that the light source wasn ’t a torch or lantern, it was natural sunlight.

Fairy mound, he reminded himself. That was probably the least surprising thing he was about to see.

The tomb entrance, from this side, emerged from an archway in the middle of the woods. No, not woods, Hiccup realised. The trees were far too orderly, laid out in neat rows. This was an orchard. Hiccup recognised several trees, but not all of them. None of them were fruiting, though it was apple and nut season and there were definitely both of those in the orchard, even in just the part of it that Hiccup could see. 

Hiccup led their little group down the path, Toothless now walking so close that they were constantly touching. The Berkians had gone somewhat quiet, he noticed, and had bunched up. Ruffnut and Tuffnut even seemed to have called a truce. Hiccup didn ’t think he’d ever seen them so close together without starting or being in a fight.

On the other side of the orchard was the most well-maintained castle Hiccup had ever seen. Big, shambling, furred beasts were delicately trimming trees and hedges, or dusting the garden furniture, and once they were past the first hedges, Hiccup had to hesitate halfway through a step to avoid a little little scurrying thing in a tall red hat as it rushed past, apparently heedless of the danger of feet.

“Do not worry about them,” a voice said. “They are hardier than they look.”

Although he hadn ’t seen or heard the great doors opening or closing, Hiccup found that there was suddenly a man about Stoick’s size and breadth, dressed in a big red and black robe that seemed to be far too heavy even for this time of the year.

“If you’re sure,” Hiccup said. “Are you Nicho —” he hesitated. No, that wasn’t how hospitality worked here. “My name is Hiccup Haddock the Third.” He skipped the middle name. The other two were bad enough on their own.

“I am Nicholas St. North. We have heard about you also. The human with the Grimalkin.”

Hiccup ’s hand went automatically to Toothless’s head. “Yes,” he said, aware there probably wasn’t much point in denying it.

“And these are … retinue?” North asked, looking the others over.

“Uh,” Hiccup said, deeply aware that he was technically outranked by most of the people standing behind him. “Companions.”

North seemed satisfied by this answer, and nodded with an understanding smile.  “Companions. Good. Come in. There is tea. Have biscuits. We talk.”

They filed into the castle, into a little sitting room that had a table the perfect size for eight guests. 

One of the gigantic, furry beasts brought a tray with tea and biscuits, and Snotlout leaned away from it apprehensively as it leaned past him to pour the tea. Merida sat on the other side of it, and she politely inclined her body, hands still in her lap and back straight, giving it room without apparently any discomfort at the strange thing. The teapot looked tiny in its fingers, like its nails alone might crack the thin handle between them, and when it put its other hand over the lid to keep the tea from spilling, the only thing that could be seen of the pot was the spout. Nevertheless, it poured the tea without a single spilled drop, and then as it stood up again, the beast gestured politely for them to take their cups from the table, and perhaps partake of a biscuit if they were willing.

Hiccup took both tea and biscuit, following North ’s lead.

“Don’t worry,” North said. “Is … only hospitality thing. Safe for humans.”

Hiccup realised that Merida and Aster had both been eyeballing him as though desperately trying to get his attention. Tuffnut and Ruffnut both had biscuits in their hands, but were looking at Merida awkwardly, as though unsure if they were allowed to eat them or not.

“For me it doesn’t matter much either way,” Hiccup said. “But as long as it’s safe for the others.”

“Perfectly safe. And three times, it is safe. Is only to say welcome for negotiations. No breach of hospitality when you leave again, eh? So fairy food will give you no trouble.”

At that, Merida finally picked up the cup and sipped her tea, and so did Aster, though far more hesitantly. The twins took that as a cue to attempt to fit several biscuits into their mouths at once. 

“Uh, looks good,” Snotlout said, as he took a biscuit like it might bite him if he picked it up wrong.

“I did not expect to see you here,” North said, after Hiccup had drained his cup and put it back on the table.

“We’re here to talk about Jack Frost,” Hiccup said.

North ’s face seemed to fall. “Ah,” he said. “You have been speaking to him.”

“Yeah,” Astrid said, “Actually, he’s a friend of ours.”

Hiccup wondered if that had been a ploy to avoid referencing exactly what his own relationship to Jack was.

North brightened a little.  “Ah, so he does have friends. Good, good. I was … not sure.”

“Ouch,” Tuffnut commented.

“You’ve known him for a while,” Aster said.

“For many years,” North confirmed, seeming to ignore or miss the subtext. He poured himself another cup of tea and dipped his biscuit in it, apparently enjoying it much better than the two separately.

But there had always been only so much small talk that Hiccup could put up with.  “Pitch has Jack.”

North put his teacup down slowly.  “Ah, so he has finally done it. He has been trying to get Jack for years.”

Everyone else at the table looked at Hiccup.

“He only did it because of me,” Hiccup said. “I came to ask you if there’s anything you can do.”

North barked a loud laugh, then cut it off suddenly.  “Oh. You are serious.” He coughed, apparently embarrassed. “Pitch is nothing to do with me except the General of my master’s enemy,” he said. “I have no control.” He spread his hands. “You want Pitch to release him? You must talk to Pitch. But I think if you come to me, you have already tried, no?”

Hiccup wasn ’t sure that what he’d done counted as ‘trying’, but he nodded anyway. “But surely there are ways for fairies to switch allegiances.” He put a hand on Toothless’s back. “Toothless was Pitch’s, and now he’s … mine.” It still felt strange to use the possessive he’d been trying to avoid all these years.

“Yeah,” Snotlout said. “Can’t he just … change sides?”

North sighed and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.  “Is not  _ simple _ , ” he said. “Humans, you have it easy. You move, there you are. Fairies, it is … complicated. He took a deal with Pitch, correct? A contract?” 

Hiccup looked down.  “Yes. A deal.”

“Then, in order to break with Pitch, Pitch must break rules somehow, or they must be … ah, what is word … square? Quits.”

“They both have to have fulfilled the terms of the deal,” Astrid said.

“Yes, exactly. Grimalkin could not have just run. Previous Master must have done something to give him opportunity, see?”

Toothless made a little noise and nudged Hiccup ’s leg. So that much was true, then.

“And that’s the only way?” Hiccup asked.

North sighed.  “One other. Pitch could agree to transfer the contract. But I think he does not want to do this three hours before grand battle.”

“You know about that already,” Aster said.

“Pitch is moving his people, and that means that he is ready to fight. That is obvious.”

“Would it have to be you who accepts the contract?” Hiccup pressed. “Could … I don’t know, Merida or someone do it?” he looked at Merida. “You’ve got to be at least equivalent in rank to … whatever Pitch is. Regent, technically? Right?”

“Could be. Could be anyone. But Pitch must _agree_ ,” North said. “And Pitch will not agree if he does not survive the battle.”

“He might not survive?” Astrid asked.

“It is not likely,” North confirmed. “Either he dies in battle or West Wind kills him for treason.” He spread his hands again, then picked up his tea. “I am afraid it is not good prospect. Likely those with him will be executed, too.”

Hiccup ’s hands clenched in his lap. 

North sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Listen. Jack is … not bad person. Deserves better. So I give you deal. If, by miracle, Pitch survives and so does Jack, I negotiate, hm? Maybe get in before West Wind begins torture, yes?”

“In exchange?” Hiccup asked, trying to skip past the ‘torture’ topic in the conversation.

“I cannot be on battlefield in … official capacity,” North said. “And I cannot risk fairies for one changeling. But, taking people from Pitch is not bad goal, I think. You have warriors. Lend me a guard, and I will be at the battle. Try and stop Jack getting killed. Try and get to Pitch before West Wind. No promises. But if you supply warriors, I will try.”

Hiccup was frozen. He  … how could he agree? Would Berk or the Dunbrochs really risk — 

He was cut off by Astrid saying,  “You’ll have them. Before sunset, outside Castle Dunbroch’s gates.”

North raised an eyebrow at Hiccup.  “You are not speaking for group here?”

“They’re … technically her warriors,” Hiccup said.

“And mine,” Merida said. “You’ll have a guard from my clan, too.”

Hiccup didn ’t know what to say, and even if he could have thought of something, he didn’t think he could have said it around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.

“Well,” Aster said. “That’s not a lot of time to marshal an army.”

“We’ll run ahead,” Ruffnut said, elbowing Tuffnut. “He’s had too many biscuits anyway.”

“Hey! I’ve had exactly as many as you.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it. Bet you can’t beat me back to the Castle.”

“With one leg tied behind my back!”

“We’d better go,” Astrid said.

“I wish you speed,” North said. “And I will meet you as you say.”

“Thank you,” Hiccup finally said.

“Is … long overdue, I think,” North said.

Somehow, it seemed like it was a much shorter travel back to the entrance of the Mound, but Hiccup decided if that was some sort of enchantment, then it was one he liked.


	100. The Fox Hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I couldn’t quite bring myself to write actual-in-battle horned Viking helmets. Sorry folks.

Aster left the group at the Castle Dunbroch gates, with a quick word to Hiccup.

“I’ll be back here if you need me,” Aster said. “But you’re on your own for this one, I’m afraid. I’m no warrior. Best I got is a gardening trowel, and that ain’t much use.”

“It’s fine,” Hiccup said. “I understand. Thanks for coming for the negotiating part.”

Aster clapped him a little awkwardly on the shoulder, then said,  “Maybe I’ll shadow along after. Help with the cleanup.”

“Whatever you can do,” Hiccup said.

By the time the rest of the little band got back to Castle Dunbroch, Ruffnut and Tuffnut had already mostly finished explaining everything to Fergus, Elinor and Stoick. Their faces were all grave, other than, of course, the twin ’s ever-animated expressions, and Hiccup braced himself to be told the bad news, that they just couldn’t spare the people, wouldn’t risk them.

Then Stoick stood up, and said,  “Well, if we’re going to get all these people in order, we’re going to have to call in everyone who’s making traps and ask for volunteers.”

“I’ll help,” Fergus said. “You have the foyer.”

Stoick frowned, but Fergus grinned.  “Got to have a little incentive,” he said. “You make a speech, I’ll take care of the rest.”

Hiccup exchanged a glance with Astrid, but she seemed as bewildered as him. 

Stoick and Fergus gripped hands for a moment.

“Ruffnut, Tuffnut,” Stoick said. “Can you still run?”

“Anywhere, anytime,” Tuffnut said. Although their faces were still bright red, neither of the twins seemed out of breath, so Hiccup, for once, didn’t doubt the claim.

“I’ll go to the other side of the grounds,” Snotlout said. “We’ll cover more ground. Fishlegs?”

“I got the far corner,” Fishlegs said. He and Snotlout bumped fists, and they followed the twins out the door.

Hiccup felt like he was in the centre of a whirlwind. Now that he wasn ’t useful, everything was happening around him in a blur, and he wasn’t sure entirely if he should be offering to help or just staying out of the way.

Stoick clapped him on the shoulder.  “We’ve got this from here,” he said. “You come with me.”

Hiccup followed his father, feeling like a child again, but also sort of glad that he had someone giving him clear instructions to follow.

His father brought him to the storage rooms, an armoury apparently, and led him to a corner.

“There’s some things in here that might fit,” he said.

“Wait,” Hiccup said. “Armour?”

“Well, I’m not letting you go into battle without it,” Stoick told him, and picked up a helmet. “We’ll see what we can piece together for you after the warriors have taken what they need. You’re … not of a size to fit most of this anyway. But this part is yours.” He handed a helmet, a smaller version of the one he himself usually wore into battle. It wasn’t the ceremonial helmet with the gigantic horns. It was just a solid, workaday thing with a noseplate and no dents in it.

“I took out most of the padding,” Stoick said. “It should fit you without it now.”

“This is Mum’s old …” Hiccup said.

“Aye, the one you trained in. Never … never did pass it on.”

Hiccup held it tight. He didn ’t like the idea of wearing it. But Stoick was right, he’d be foolish not to wear it. And he didn’t intend to stay behind while everyone else went after Jack, even if he was probably going to be useless in the actual fighting.

“Thanks, Dad,” he said. “For … for everything.”

Stoick just put his hand on Hiccup ’s shoulder, then seemed to decide that he didn’t really have any response to that, so instead he just left the armoury.

“What do you and Fergus have planned?”

“Just a little theatre,” Stoick said, his face cracking into a smile. “Can’t drum up an army unless you get the blood going!”

“I’ll … take it from you.”

Stoick clapped him on the back, making him stumble a little.  “You’ll see!” he boomed, and Hiccup had to hurry to keep up as he strode off in the direction of the great hall.

Hiccup waited off to the side of the room, still gripping the helmet, as what seemed like most of Berk filed in.

Astrid leaned against the wall next to him, and glanced down.  “Got her helmet, huh?” she asked.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. Mum’s helmet.” Hiccup turned it over in his hands.

“He never passed it on, you know,” Astrid said.

“He said,” Hiccup said. 

There was a pause. The silence was the kind that made Hiccup feel itchy.

“Listen,” he said. “Any other day I’d just wait it out, but … you’re trying to make me feel guilty again, aren’t you?”

Astrid sighed, and pushed her fringe aside with her hand, then folded her arms again.  “Now’s not the time,” she said. “But yeah, I guess I am.”

“Right,” Hiccup said, and tried to let the conversation end there, but Astrid turned to him again.

“But I guess,” she said, a bit slower. “Now’s not the time to guilt you about leaving, either. That’s … I’ll stop.”

“That’s … comforting?” Hiccup said.

“Speech is starting,” Astrid said.

“Apology accepted,” Hiccup muttered, wondering if things would ever get _less_ confusing between them, and looked up at his father.

Stoick had climbed up onto a table so that he could see over the crowd better.

“Berk! Listen up!”

He got their attention immediately. A trick Hiccup had never been able to fathom, let alone manage himself.

“I know today has been confusing,” Stoick said. “And it’ll get a little more confusing before it’s finished, but we have had new information come to our attention.”

Murmur, mutter, attention back to Stoick.

“So some of you might have heard that one of our number has gone missing,” Stoick said. “We are no longer just keeping ourselves in the castle.” He slammed one fist into his other hand. “We have a rescue mission!”

Another murmur. To Hiccup ’s surprise, it sounded like one of interest, rather than displeasure.

“The task is simple. Protect the white-haired boy, and make sure that the Fairy General Pitch Black survives the battle to be brought to justice.”

“Certainly sounds a lot nicer than protecting their mortal enemy,” Hiccup whispered to Astrid.

“Sh,” she told him.

“Nobody who doesn’t want to come will have to. You want to stay here, you stay. I’ll have nobody half-committed on the field. But as warriors, I know you will all be —”

Stoick was cut off by the bang of the doors from the other side of the hall, and Fergus ’s big entrance, followed with what looked like the other half of the castle’s current residents.

“I say!” he said. “I am the King of this Castle, and I will not have a mere Chief drumming up the troops without my presence!”

Stoick spread his arms and pretended to be offended.  “You were so late getting here, we thought you’d never arrive at all!”

Jeers from the crowd.

“I’ll have you know!” Fergus said, “It takes longer to gather my people because they are larger in number, and moreover were doing more work outside in the fortifications!”

“He’s going to start a riot,” Hiccup said.

“Shh,” Astrid told him again.

This time Stoick had to wait for the shouting crowd to die down.

“That’s because Berk needs fewer people,” Stoick shouted, “As every one of my warriors is worth three of yours!”

“We’re doomed,” Hiccup said.

The two men on the stage butted heads for a while, as the crowd shouted suggestions for insults and wisecracks they could trade, and Hiccup was just waiting for the first chair to be thrown and everything to descend into chaos, when Stoick folded his arms and said,  “Why, you’re such a poor King, you’ll have us arguing while there’s fighting to be done! Are you going to abandon a guest at your castle to mortal peril, just to argue with me?”

“There, you’re right,” Fergus said. “We should prove ourselves on the battlefield. There, we will see who are the better fighters!” 

This was somehow met with raucous cheers, all animosity apparently forgotten as the two leaders locked meaty hands in a clasp that was half handshake and half arm wrestle.

“To the armoury!” Fergus said, breaking free of Stoick’s grasp. “The gates at sunset, and then to the battle!”

The crowd all but stampeded out of the room. 

Hiccup watched them go in a state approaching befuddlement.

“Theatre,” he said. “They _fell_ for that?”

Astrid clapped him on the shoulder.  “That’s why you’d never be a good Chief,” she said. “You’re not nearly blunt enough for Berk. Come on. I’ll make sure you get some armour you can actually move in.”


	101. The Biggest Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: This might be the first battle scene I’ve written in … more than ten years? Because I freaking hate them. They’re the worst. I'm so bad at battle scenes.
> 
> You’re welcome.

Jack was no fighter, and both he and Pitch knew it. But that didn ’t change the fact that Pitch needed every single fairy he could cajole, coerce or just plain force onto the battlefield if he was going to have any chance of winning the battle.

Correction.

He needed them all if he was going to have a chance of  _ surviving _ . The West Wind could wipe out any army Pitch could field, even if he somehow managed to break the loyalty of every fairy in his half of the woods.

But the West Wind couldn ’t be seen to so callously wipe out any significant number of her followers at once. If there were enough of them, she had to be seen to at least give them a fair battle. Or, at least, the possibility that she wouldn’t was what Pitch was counting on.

But even to Jack, who still wasn ’t really used to any gathering of  _ anyone _ over about five people, the army that Pitch had gathered at the chosen spot  — as requested, far enough away from Castle Dunbroch that any humans would have to go out of their way to run afoul of the battleground — looked tiny. Words like  ‘meagre’. ‘Insufficient’. ‘Piecemeal’. Merida would have laughed, and told Jack she didn’t think he had such a large vocabulary.

Jack could have really, really used a laugh right now. But the joke just wasn ’t as funny when he was only imagining Merida saying it.

The only comfort he really had was that Hiccup  _ had _ come, and Hiccup  _ had _ tried to take the deal. If he hadn ’t … well, Jack didn’t think he could have come to the battlefield and just stood there and waited for the West Wind to arrive if he’d known that he’d gambled wrong, and that all this had been for nothing.

Maybe  … maybe after the war, Pitch wouldn’t have any more need for him, and he’d be able to just sort of … exist in the woods like most spirits did. Like Tooth had, and some of the others who had technically joined a side but weren’t important enough to need to be near their masters all the time. He could … well, he doubted he’d be welcome with Merida anymore. Hiccup … he’d try. Punzie would probably forgive him, but only because she was Punzie and she’d forgive anyone, so he’d be careful not to impose on her too much. And maybe in time …

“Eyes front, Jackie,” Pitch whispered next to his ear. “Concentrate.”

“I’m concentrating,” Jack said, and blinked a few times, making sure his vision was completely clear.

“They’re on their way,” Pitch said, and kept walking down the line.

The battle ground they ’d chosen was after dark and in the trees, where Pitch’s fairies could do what they did best, though Jack didn’t think it’d make much of a difference in the end. It wasn’t the thickest part of the woods, where nobody could have moved or swung a weapon, even claws, between the undergrowth and the tree trunks. But it wasn’t exactly open ground, either, and that meant every fairy for themselves when the fighting really got started.

Jack gripped his staff, and whispered through gritted teeth,  “Wind, I know you technically have to obey the West Wind. But if you could spare me a bit of a thought, just … make sure you save a gust or two to keep me on my feet? I’d appreciate it.” It suddenly occurred to him that he’d never really given the wind anything in exchange for its friendship over the years. He wasn’t sure what the wind might like, or how to give the wind a gift if he  _ did _ think of something. But he should probably start planning, if he survived this.

“Stop fidgeting,” the pale creature next to him hissed. It was half again as tall as Jack, with hair like roots and curling horns like tree branches, and its face was cracked like bark.

“Sorry,” Jack hissed back, and tried to keep still as he waited.

As Pitch had said, he didn ’t need to wait much longer. After only another few minutes, the West Wind and her army came through the trees. Jack felt the Wind pulling every which way at his clothes and the nervous churning in his guts suddenly went from something he could distract himself from to something that threatened to engulf all his thoughts. The fog that he’d laid down to obscure the back rows of Pitch’s troops — partially to disguise how many there were in the grim twilight, and partially to disguise how few there were.

Pitch was dressed in battle regalia  — usually he wore a simple black robe that made it hard to distinguish where his feet were and gave him that sinuous, gliding movement. Now the black shift was broken up by a black leather and pale copper suit of armour, his helmet off for now and tucked under his arm.

The West Wind had not changed since she had met with Hiccup and Jack in the woods, still in that same fog-and-cloud armour, only now she wasn ’t trying to hide her power or appear more human, and the armour and her body hardly seemed to have edges anymore. The fog could have been kicked up by her feet and her movements, or it could have been hair flowing over her shoulders and down her back. If it weren’t for the subtle shifting of her skirt at her hips as she strode onto the field, Jack might have assumed that she simply became the rolling fog that spread out around her. 

Her army was not obscured by the fog, and Jack realised with another rush of nerves that it was not as large as he feared. It was still much larger than Pitch ’s army, large enough to make Jack wish he wasn’t so exposed, and wouldn’t be noticed if he just … tried to run. But his imagination had been filled with rank upon rank of heavily-armoured fairies making the trees shake in marching cadence, and it wasn’t that, so that was a mercy, he supposed.

He wondered how many of the fairies in his fog had the same idea about running away, and whether any of them had actually managed it. More power to them, if they could, he thought. He wouldn ’t begrudge them saving their own hides.

Pitch and the West Wind met in the middle of the field as their armies stood back. They bowed stiffly, and Pitch said,  “We are not few.”

“You may as well be,” the West Wind said. “Traitors are lower than insects, no matter that they be numerous as an ant hive.”

“Said the bear’s carcass as it was consumed,” Pitch said, and the leaders returned to their sides.

It wasn ’t a formal signal that started the battle so much as the final snap of the restraint that had been keeping the armies in their places. Jack could feel the tension rising and rising as the leaders returned to their places, the pause as they sized each other up, and then the fairies more inclined to obey their bloodlust than their orders broke ranks. At that moment, the battle seemed split in two, between those trying to join the battle, and those more cautious, like Jack, trying to find the safest place to hide.

Jack trusted desperately to the wind and shot up a nearby tree trunk, hooking a branch with his staff and swinging up to the canopy above. He wasn ’t, of course, the only fairy who could climb, and soon the trees would be as crowded as the ground, but at least he had a better view up here.

He leaned against the trunk for a moment, thanking the wind for letting him up without too much of a fuss, though it was still pulling at his clothes and he felt off-balance no matter how firmly he planted his feet.

Alright. He had to get involved somehow. Pitch would know. Pitch would know.

But his hands were trembling on his staff, and he found himself clumsy. He fired a patch of ice in front of a stumbling fairy, bringing it down so that the Grimalkin behind it  — Jack tried not to think of Toothless — could leap onto it and crush its neck. Another blast, icing a limb to a tree as one of the West Wind ’s lot tried to use the trunk to manoeuvre, ruining its graceful turn. It was taken down by arrows a moment later, perfectly aimed at eyes and throat.

Jack swallowed hard and found it was nearly impossible to pick a third target. His mind just wasn ’t working fast enough to keep up with the flow of the battle — by the time he’d picked a target, they had moved and his chance was gone. 

Then he felt something wrap around his leg and  _ tug _ , and he was falling down into the fog underneath the tree. Just as he was reaching his staff around to retaliate with ice, the ground met his shoulders and the back of his head. The breath went out of him and for a moment the trees spun. But as his head cleared, the trees were still moving, and Jack realised with a jolt that he was being dragged across the ground, fast. He was going too fast to get purchase on the fallen leaves under him. The fog was too deep to see what he was being pulled towards, but  — 

_ Squelch _

Suddenly, Jack had stopped. He rolled over, trying to lift his staff and look up, just in case whoever or whatever had saved him wasn ’t friendly. 

The face, round and belligerent and almost terrifyingly human, grinned at him from under a helmet with studs down the sides and a prominent nose-piece. Somewhere nearby, a horrifyingly familiar voice screeched and there was the sound of an axe. 

“Snotlout?” Jack asked, shouting to be heard above the battle.

“Hi, Jack!” Ruffnut shouted into his ear, from his other side. “Get down!”

She gave Jack a shove, and suddenly he was surrounded on three sides. Snotlout was in front of him, facing towards the battlegrounds, axe at the ready. Ruffnut and Tuffnut flanked him, watching his sides and back.

“What are you _doing_?” Jack asked.

“Berk Bodyguard Service,” Snotlout said over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ve got this under control!”

“Are there more of you?” Jack yelled back, trying to keep an eye on all three sides, so that he could help them if he could.

“Hundreds!” Ruffnut shouted back.

Jack spotted something bounding towards them, a long and lanky creature that had dropped on all fours to run. He sent frost, and as it stumbled, a night hound with razorback spines leaped into it, both of them tumbling away into the fog.

“Why?” Jack yelled over his shoulder to Snotlout.

But that apparently required an answer too detailed for a battlefield, or Jack just plain couldn ’t make himself heard over the noise. The next few minutes was spent desperately trying to keep their little formation. 

Jack was soon breathing heavily. He usually reserved his frost magic for party tricks, and he realised with a chill that he ’d never actually learned how deep his reserves went.

But he couldn ’t think about that. He just had to keep going for a little longer. Then a little longer. And a little longer…

Then it was over. There was nothing else coming towards them.

Jack didn ’t sweat, so he didn’t know why he’d assumed that his clothes were getting sweaty. By the look of the others, he should have realised that he was getting covered with blood, in every colour from red to blue to a strange, mucusy white. Nevertheless, he felt his stomach turn when he finally looked down.

Snotlout clapped him on the back, and Jack wobbled.

“Nice support,” Snotlout said.

“Yeah,” Tuffnut said. “Turns out it’s a lot easier to fight when half your enemies are flat on their faces.”

“You three do this all the time, huh?” Jack said.

“Yeah,” Ruffnut said, and shrugged. “No big deal.”

Jack, despite the logical part of him insisting it would be a bad idea, tried to make his way through the trees to where he thought the centre of the battleground was, stepping carefully around the bodies that were starting to become visible in the slowly dissipating fog.

And there, he saw the reason that the battle had finally ended.


	102. Judgement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally part of the previous one, but then I decided that I love making people suffer.

In the area where the battle had started, on the crushed Pitch was bound hand and foot in front of the West Wind, kneeling in front of her, His helmet was off, his face streaked with dirt and blood. For the first time ever, Jack saw Pitch with his hair askew. But he couldn ’t see Pitch’s face, and didn’t particularly want to walk to where he could.

Ruffnut had been exaggerating when she had said there were hundreds from Berk and Castle Dunbroch. Or at least, Jack hoped she had, because if she had been serious, then Jack didn ’t want to think about the number that must have been killed. A few score humans, at the most, stood in a big bunch on the other side of the two of them, headed by Fergus and Stoick and … North? What was North doing there?

Jack tried to scan the faces to see if he could find Hiccup. Had Hiccup come? Had he survived? He must have. Toothless wouldn ’t have let him die. Right?

“Hey!” Ruffnut said, waving. “We got him!”

Jack tried to hush her  — he didn ’t need any attention drawn to him right now — but it was too late. Both the West Wind and Pitch looked up to see him, and Pitch hissed, “Frost. Get over here.”

And Jack, though every bone in his body wanted to stay behind the three Berkians, found his feet slipping out from between them and joining Pitch ’s side, even as he tried to hide his glance back at the ranks of human warriors. He didn’t particularly want to meet anyone’s eyes — 

Hiccup! There he was! He forgot completely about not wanting anyone to notice him looking at them as he and Hiccup locked eyes. Hiccup ’s face was tight. Jack couldn’t see the expression exactly underneath the helmet, but he thought he saw … well, he didn’t want to think right now about the expression he saw under there. Anger and fear and … no. Jack had enough fear of his own right now, and the last thing he wanted to do was lose what little control of his emotions he had left. He tried to give Hiccup a jaunty smile. Maybe Hiccup wouldn’t like Jack very much anymore if he thought Jack was alright with this, of all situations, but if it gave Hiccup a little hope that this was still under control, that was alright, wasn’t it?

But the expression Jack summoned definitely wasn ’t jaunty, and he could feel it. It was too thin-lipped, too tight around the eyes.

“And the last one,” Pitch said. “Who I placed in charge of troop movements.”

“So, he was also of high rank?”

“Yes,” Pitch said. “He helped set up the battle.”

Jack at least noticed that Pitch ’s voice was strained, as though he were fighting himself to talk. If Pitch was selling him out, it was at least under compulsion, not because he wanted to. Though Jack wasn’t sure why that was comforting, really.

“Is this true?” The West Wind asked, and Jack thought about saying that it wasn’t, but one look at those cold, grey eyes and his voice disobeyed him, and he said, “Mostly. I only joined yesterday, but I did help set up the battlefield. And sneak the army through the forest.”

Never had he cursed his fairy origins so fiercely.

All eyes were on him from the humans lined up to his right to the remaining fairies gathering, defeated and apprehensive, or victorious and solemn, around the edges of his peripheral vision.

The West Wind nodded, and said,  “Fortunately or unfortunately, it seems that all your higher underlings have either kept their loyalty to me or else perished in the battle.” She cast a significant glance down by her feet, where three or four corpses lay, and Jack had the sinking suspicion that she counted ‘the battle’ as ending a little later than Pitch did. “And the rest of your army is of no consequence to me. So it remains to me to decide what happens to the two of you.”

Pitch bowed his head.  “I accept death,” he said.

Jack didn ’t so much bow his head as look at the ground and feel his throat close up. Well, this was it. If Pitch accepted death, then Jack was spoken for. 

Then, the West Wind said,  “No. I do not allow you to die, traitor Pitch Black.”

Pitch and Jack looked up in a unison that almost had Jack wondering if it was another compulsion on them both.

“No?” Pitch asked, in the same voice Pandora must have used when the gods handed her a box.

“Pitch Black, I exile you. Not just from the woods, nor from the furthermost reaches of the land on which they stand. I exile you from this plane entire, into the dark places between worlds, until such time as you perish or I decide your term has been served.”

“Wait,” Pitch said quickly. “Please, wait —”

The West Wind ’s expression, cold and impassive, did not change, and Jack heard Pitch’s voice die in his throat.

Jack couldn ’t talk. He thought he heard a choking noise from somewhere in the crowd. One of the fairies? Hiccup?

“What … are the dark places?” he managed to croak.

“They are the nothing between things,” the West Wind said. “Neither ground nor sky nor moon and stars. I sentence you to loneliness. Nothing less … and nothing more.”

Jack was no stranger to cold, but the chill that went through him made his whole body clench and his head feel light.  “I …” he began, and then the rest of the sentence choked him as he saw what was happening to Pitch. Tendrils, dark like the night and outlined in purple like an angry bruise were twisting around his ankles. Jack went to step away, but he found that his feet were rooted in place and his body wouldn’t obey them.

Pitch looked up at him with a malicious grin.  “Oh, Jackie,” he said. “Let’s go together, just you and me.”

Jack wanted to look up, to catch Hiccup ’s eye. This was the last time he’d ever get to. But whatever magic held him in place also locked his eyes on Pitch’s face as it was slowly wrapped up in those dark tendrils.

“Perhaps you misheard me,” the West Wind said. “Pitch Black, I sentence you to _loneliness_. A leader who would spur his people to treachery deserves no loyalty, and no lesser share of torment. I take from you all your underlings, no matter how high. No debts are now owed you, nor boons permitted. You are alone, Pitch Black. Jack Frost, as master of this pitiful creature, once by oath and now by right of arms, I break your ties.”

Whatever had been holding Jack in place suddenly snapped and he fell backwards onto the bloodied leaf litter, not realising how hard he ’d been trying to lean away from Pitch and those tendrils.

Pitch ’s eyes just had time to widen before his face, too, was wrapped in night. The tendrils folded in on themselves. There was nothing left.


	103. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus begins the wind down. I promise not to threaten to kill off any more characters ... in *this* story at least.

The West Wind watched the place where Pitch had disappeared for a moment, as though making sure he were really gone. Then she turned to North and said,  “There. I have fulfilled my oath. You will fulfil yours.”

“Yes,” North said. “We will be gone within the week.”

“Wait,” Jack said. “Gone?”

The West Wind turned to him.  “You owe this General a debt, I think,” she said. “Though you were not of his ilk, he has come here and bargained for your life. He and his most trusted are to leave his mound in self-imposed exile from the woods before the Man in the Moon turns his full face on this forest, in exchange for your life.”

North nodded solemnly, and the West Wind turned and walked away from the battleground.

Jack couldn ’t quite believe what he was hearing. North … leaving? Bargained to save Jack?

Why?

But then he stopped thinking about that because Hiccup had pulled his helmet off, shoved it at Astrid, who only just managed to grab it before it fell. He pushed past his father and walked  — no, stormed — over to Jack, his expression so fierce that for a moment Jack feared for his life again. Those fears were briefly confirmed when Hiccup picked him up by the front of his shirt, lifting him nearly entirely off the ground.

Then Hiccup pressed his mouth so hard onto Jack ’s that for a moment, Jack’s mouth wouldn’t open, despite Hiccup clearly trying to nudge his lips apart. The kiss seemed to encompass and defy emotions — anger, fear, frustration, relief, all at once as their mouths pressed closer and Jack twined his arms around Hiccup’s shoulders and his fingers into Hiccup’s hair, because oh gods for a while he’d thought that wouldn’t be  _ possible _ anymore.

When they finally stopped, Hiccup muttered into Jack ’s cheek, “Not allowed. To scare me like that. Ever again.”

“You …” Jack said, about to say that Hiccup was about to take the deal himself, but he thought better of it. They could have that conversation later. So much later.

For now, he had other people he needed to talk to. Jack reluctantly let go of Hiccup, squeezing his hands one last time, and went to North.

“Uh,” he said. “Rumour has it you arranged this for me.”

North shrugged.  “Do not tell West Wind, but I had planned to leave anyway,” he said, with a wily grin. “Is only trouble for those of Man in Moon here in woods now. We would all be exiled eventually. So, I give word that we leave, and in exchange …” he spread his hands as though it was self explanatory.

“Thank you,” said Jack.

“You deserve better than Pitch,” North said. “I might be General, but I am also soft old man. Hiccup says you made choice for him, hm?” His eyebrows lifted knowingly, and Jack felt his cheeks flush.

“Yeah,” he said.

“See? I have soft spot.” North clapped a hand on Jack’s back. “Maybe you come visit someday. Under happier circumstances. Make pretty frost pictures again. Tell me about your new friends.”

“I’ll … try,” Jack said. He wasn’t sure exactly whether that was an invitation or not, but he chose not to dissect it right now.

North nodded.

“Nice to see you got out alright,” another voice said, beside Jack.

“Aster!”

“Yup. Don’t thank me too much, I didn’t do any fighting. Just a little guiding. And showed up at the end to see how it all shook out.”

“Thank you, too,” Jack said.

Aster ruffled his hair.  “Yeah, glad you’re alright. But Jack …”

“Never again, I know.”

“That was bloody stupid,” Aster confirmed. “Put a lot of people in danger. They volunteered, so it’s not my business, and I’m glad you’re alright. But …”

Jack looked out at the battleground.  “Yeah,” he said quietly.

“Just so’s you understand,” Aster said.

“I understand.”

“But … can’t stress this enough: I’m glad you’re alive.”

  
  


***

  
  


As Jack went to talk to North, Hiccup went to to Snotlout and the twins.

“Thanks for keeping him safe,” he said.

“Yeah, he’s alive,” Tuffnut said. “No thanks to you trying to suffocate him at the end there.”

“Never watched someone try to kill someone with their mouth before,” Ruffnut said. “You gotta teach me that trick.”

“It didn’t work, though,” Tuffnut said. “See, he’s still walking.”

“Only because Hiccup loves him very, very much,” Ruffnut said airily, making Hiccup put a hand to his face, half to brush out his hair, still not quite recovered from its time in the helmet, and half to hide the colour his face was going.

“You done?” he asked.

“Nah,” Tuffnut said. “You know better, Hiccup. If you want us to shut up, you have to interrupt.”

“Hey,” Astrid said, arriving beside them.

“See?” Tuffnut said. “Astrid knows.”

“Casualties?” Hiccup asked Astrid, taking the helmet back.

“Less than they could be,” she said. “More than zero. I don’t like our chances of finding all the bodies until the fog clears, though. We’re setting people to helping with the injured.”

“Good,” Hiccup said. “I’m sorry. About all this.”

Astrid punched him in the shoulder.  “This is what Berk does. People we love get in trouble, we do brave and stupid things.”

“Yeah, but …” Hiccup looked around, and shuddered. The smell hadn’t been pleasant to start with, but now with no distractions and the chilly fog starting to clear, it wouldn’t be long until this battleground was unbearable.

Well, more so than it already was.

“Come on,” Astrid said. “Things to organise. We’re not out of the woods yet.”


	104. Bonfires Solve Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are at the end of the journey, folks. Thanks for sticking with me for all of it, and for all the nice comments and kudos. I can’t thank you all enough for reading and for the encouragement. 104 chapters is a heck of a lot of time to stick with me through this, so thank you deeply for all your time. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Oh, and if you celebrate Christmas/Designated Merriness Day, you can consider this a gift for the occasion.  
> If not, then it can be an unbirthday present (Lewis Carrol references are still cool, right?). Or pick your favourite gift occasion, I'm fine with whatever.
> 
> Either way, here's the last chapter.

Nearly three weeks had passed since the battle. Some might have called it a  ‘great battle’. That was certainly how Fergus and Stoick were recounting it, several ales apiece into the evening, flushed with victory and perhaps a little less wisdom than usual.

The dead hadn ’t numbered so very many, but as Astrid said, not zero, and therefore it was a number Hiccup didn’t want to think about. But they were buried now, and people were starting to remember them through feasts rather than funerals.

Most of the party was gathered around the Royal Family or the food and drinks, but Hiccup, Jack and Merida were on the other side of the bonfire. Merida was tucked up against Toothless ’s back legs, resting her head on his flank, while Hiccup leaned against his ribs with Jack reclining against him. There were drinks tucked into the grass, at various angles from upright to moderately precarious, around them.

Rapunzel returned with the plates, expertly balancing them on her arms. 

“I didn’t know how you two were going to manage two separate plates,” she said to Jack and Hiccup, “So I just got you one big one. Besides, it’s easier to carry three than four.”

“We’d only have stolen off each other anyway,” Jack said, making two-handed gesture for the plate like a toddler asking to be picked up. 

Rapunzel placed it in his hands, no small feat of dexterity with plates in both hands and balanced on her arm, and Jack put the plate on his lap. Hiccup reached around him to steal morsels off it. Rapunzel gave Merida one of the remaining plates and curled up against Toothless between the other three, putting her plate on her tucked-up knees.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow,” Merida said, for what was about the fifth time that night.

“I can’t believe I’m going back to Berk,” Hiccup said.

“You’ll love it, after a while,” Rapunzel said, with a smile. “You seem … really happy with everyone.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “I guess I am.”

“But you’ve got to visit,” Rapunzel said.

“Please,” Jack said. “You’re my big sister, I’d get in trouble if I didn’t come to visit regularly.”

“And Astrid needs to see Merida sometimes,” Hiccup said.

“Oh, hush, you,” Merida chided.

On another day, Hiccup might have continued the line of teasing, but today  … he just dropped it. He still wasn’t quite feeling up to his usual standards.

“It feels like something should have changed after the battle,” Rapunzel said. “Like … the forest would be safer, or the fairies would be gone …”

“Never,” Jack said. “That’s fairies. They change everything out from under you, but when you get your feet again, you find that it’s still all the same.”

Merida pushed hair away from her face and shoved three-quarters of a sweet roll into her mouth.  “Ifp’s,” she said, then chewed and swallowed before trying again. “It’s just strange.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. He looked past the fire, where Snotlout and the twins were attempting to convey something of great importance to someone Hiccup didn’t recognise, who seemed to be either politely putting up with them, or perhaps was a little too drunk to focus on them properly.

“It’s louder than our last bonfire,” Hiccup said.

“We’ll have a quiet one again soon,” Jack promised. “When you get your little hermit hut in Berk.”

“It doesn’t count as a hermit hut if you don’t have to pack a lunch to get to the nearest house,” Hiccup corrected him, kissing Jack on the top of the head.

“Or if you’re sharing it with your boyfriend,” Merida said.

“Just … come back soon, alright?” Rapunzel said. 

“Hey, you can come visit us too, you know,” Jack said. 

“I know, I know!” Rapunzel said quickly. “I’ll do that too.”

Laughter broke out on the other side of the campsite as their conversation lulled.

Hiccup wrapped his arms a little tighter around Jack, and Jack squeezed his arm. 

“You’ll spill the food.”

“Don’t care,” Hiccup said, and put his face into Jack’s neck. 

Merida and Rapunzel both pretended to be very interested in their plates. 

Hiccup and Jack were both still having trouble not thinking about Pitch ’s fate when things got too quiet. It was a dampener on the mood far too often over the last few days.

“Well, I care,” Jack said, clearly trying to lift the mood again. “I’m eating that. Here.” He picked up a few slices of fruit and poked them over his shoulder into Hiccup’s cheek.

Hiccup took them out of Jack ’s fingers with his teeth and returned his head to Jack’s shoulder.

They still had to have that conversation about how they ’d both tried to do the same stupid thing and … all the things that led to. They still had to talk about a lot of things.

But for now, the bonfire was warm on their faces, and Toothless was warm against their backs. Merida had turned to laugh at some pantomime from Ruffnut, which may or may not have been winning the favour of one of the young men from Castle Dunbroch. Rapunzel was eating and watching the fire.

And Hiccup had Jack in his arms, eating pears from the plate they shared.

For now, that felt a lot like enough.


End file.
